


Even If You Die

by PerchingPasserine



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fate & Destiny, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Master Sword (Legend of Zelda), Not Really Character Death, Original Hyrule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26412199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerchingPasserine/pseuds/PerchingPasserine
Summary: Hyrule rolled Sky’s body onto its back and shook its shoulder. “Sky. Look at me.” He tilted its head back and hovered his hand over its mouth and nose. “Come on. You need to breathe.” He curled his fingers across the underside of its wrist. “Please, you can’t do this.”“I’m not,” Sky said. “I’m right here, Traveler.”———Or: Sky becomes a ghost, Fi is reluctantly awake, and the Links go on yet another quest to save the world.
Relationships: Fi (Legend of Zelda) & Sky (Linked Universe), Hyrule & Sky (Linked Universe)
Comments: 114
Kudos: 259
Collections: RaeLynn's Epic Rec List





	1. A New Hyrule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blanket content warning for the fic: themes of death and dying, of course. The first chapter is innocuous, but beyond that, beware.
> 
> Thank you to the creators of LoZ and to Jojo for making this wonderful universe.

Kakariko Village was a mess of cramped buildings and poorly-maintained cobblestone streets. Though nothing stopped the travelers from simply walking in, Sky couldn’t help but feel that they were not welcome. The most common reaction to their presence was a wary glance and a quickened pace to hurry past. It set his teeth on edge.

“Just to be sure, no one recognizes this Kakariko?” Twilight said as his eyes darted around the buildings. In the relative quiet of the village, the only thing he had to speak over was the steady clop of Epona’s hooves against stone.

It was simple enough for Sky, whose Surface didn’t have a Kakariko, to answer in the negative, but the other Links had no problem either.

“I’m glad it isn’t,” Wind said. “Everyone’s so unfriendly here.”

Warriors put a hand on Wind’s head. “Careful how loudly you speak. An old villager woman might come in the night to take revenge for your insults.”

Sky resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead looked around to see if anyone had heard Warriors’s comment. He made eye contact with a young girl. She stared, and he smiled, and then she turned and escaped into a house.

“Whatever.” Wind pushed Warriors’s hand off of him with a huff. “It’s just weird, isn’t it? It’s like they’ve never seen visitors before in their life.”

Four, who walked slightly ahead, slowed his pace at Wind’s words. “See how rundown everything is?” he said. “I doubt this is an attractive place for travelers.”

Wind shuddered. “And there’s that creepy forest through the hills.”

“Not to mention that the man who gave us directions couldn’t believe we’d want to go to Kakariko, of all places,” Four said.

“This place could definitely use a remodel,” Warriors said, peering at the buildings, which lacked any sort of decoration or even conveniences like window glass.

The narrow streets of the village twisted between buildings that pressed so close against each other, in places they almost merged. Despite the obvious problems, it felt compact to Sky, in a cozy sort of way. He slid in next to Wind. “I think it’s nice enough already.”

“You think everything is nice,” Warriors said. Sky huffed.

“He’s not wrong, Sky,” Four said and stopped walking. At the head of the group, Time and Twilight had come to a halt to speak to a woman who stood on the porch of one of the larger buildings. Freckles splattered across her face, and her hair was swept up into a low, flat bun.

“Here for an early lunch?” she said and gestured to the sign that hung above her, helpfully written in a Hylian none of them could read.

“That, and a place to stay,” Time said.

Twilight patted Epona’s neck. “And a place for her, too?”

The woman grinned. “The name’s Sana. I can do the first two, and I know a guy who can do the third. Why don’t I take you to meet the horse guy while the rest of you settle in?”

The interior of the inn was simple but functional. A small counter made for a sort of bar, behind which a door led to what was probably the kitchen. Three long tables crossed the length of the floor, and smaller tables lined the sides. At the back of the room, a staircase stuck out of the wall, hopefully leading to bedrooms. After weeks in the wilderness, Sky couldn’t wait to sleep in a real bed.

They settled down at one of the long tables, Sky finding a place between Hyrule and Wild. Hyrule kicked at the table’s legs and looked around. “I don’t like how cautious everyone is here.”

“I wonder what’s made them act like that,” Wild said.

“Sana seems friendly,” Sky said.

“Yeah, but she runs an inn. Kind of a requirement.” Wild pursed his lips. “It just reminds me of some of the towns in my Hyrule when I was first wandering around, which means that something is wrong.”

“Fair enough.” Sky hoped Wild was wrong but knew he probably wasn’t. They had only come across one traveler in their first few days here, and he had been overly skittish. The monsters, however, were numerous.

Sana and Twilight came through the front door, and Twilight settled down across from Wild. “I hope you don’t mind a wait,” Sana said. “Lunch is cooking, but it’ll take a while.”

“We understand,” Time said.

Sana’s gaze drifted over the rest of them as she nodded. “Good. I’ll let you know when—” She blinked, her gaze caught just over Sky’s shoulder.

Sky froze in his seat. “Is something wrong?”

As the other Links turned their attention to the conversation, Sana pulled out the nearest empty chair and sat down, her gaze never leaving Sky. “That’s an interesting sword you’ve got there,” she said.

Sky resisted the urge to reach up and grab Fi’s hilt. “What about her?” he asked, afraid of the answer.

“Don’t act dumb. You can’t go around with _that_ on your back and not expect people to notice.” Sana’s head tilted. “Where’d you get it?”

“I, um,” Sky stuttered. “Well—”

“It’s a family heirloom,” Time said.

Sky nodded sharply. “Right. That.”

“A family heirloom, huh? You must have an interesting family to have a replica of the sword of legend as an heirloom.”

Before Sky could ruin it by blurting _of course it’s just a replica! You’re completely right. What else could it possibly be?,_ Legend snorted. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Yeah! We’re pretty chaotic,” Wind said.

“Oh, so _you’re_ the family?”

In the beat of silence that followed, heat rose to Sky’s cheeks, but he caught his automatic denial under his tongue before it could escape.

“‘Course we are. Can’t you see the resemblance?” Wind swung an arm around Four’s shoulders. Four twitched and pushed him off.

Sana squinted at them. “Huh. Maybe?”

Wind launched into a speech comparing the similarities of all their features while Sana watched on with amusement. Sky relaxed back into his chair. The sword of legend, huh? Most of the Links had wielded Fi, and they all had different, elaborate names for her, but she had never been so casually recognized by an outsider before. It made him, even as he realized it sounded a bit ridiculous, proud.

“If you know about the sword of legend,” Legend said, interrupting Wind, “then do you know someone named Link?”

Sana’s gaze snapped to Legend, and when she spoke, her voice was measured. “That’s something of an odd question to ask, don’t you think?”

Legend leaned forward. “Why would that be?”

“Everyone knows the correct way to ask is _did_ you know.”

“Fine,” Legend said easily, even as something uneasy settled in Sky’s stomach. “Did you know Link?”

“Of course,” Sana said and pushed back from the table. “He grew up in Kakariko, after all, and we were about the same age. I knew him until the royal family stole him away. No one’s seen him in fifteen years.”

Legend just watched as Sana walked across the room and turned to brace herself against the counter. “But all of that is common knowledge,” she said. “None of it should surprise you.”

“Say we wanted to find out what happened to Link,” Twilight said. “What would be the best place to start?”

“Without getting yourself killed? Nowhere. You don’t think you’re the first ones to search for him and Princess Zelda, do you?”

Twilight spread his hands on the table with his palms facing up. “I’m sure we’re not, but let’s say we’re going to give it a go anyway.”

Sana stepped around to the back of the counter and began cleaning a glass. Twilight had just opened his mouth again when she said, “You’d have to go into Castle Valley, but that’s impossible to do without some sort of fairy armor.”

“What’s fairy armor?” Wind asked at the same time Legend said, “What’s impossible about it?”

“Ganon learned the royal spirit magic and used it for his own purposes,” Sana said after a moment. “When he took over Castle Valley, he spread a thick fog over it. Anyone who touches that fog… their soul is ripped from their body, and its energy is used to make Ganon stronger. Armor of fairy-make protects a person, but it’s rare. It’s only rumored that it can still be found in their abandoned temple.”

“Where is this temple?” Time asked.

Sana shook her head. “How can you not know any of this? You have an exact copy of the sword of legend with you, and you’re looking for Link, yet you know nothing.”

In the quiet that followed, Sky watched the way Sana rubbed a rag over the glass even once it was clean. He thought of her saying, bitterly, _the royal family stole him away_. She had been closer to Link than she wanted to let on, he thought.

“We’re not from anywhere near here, as you might’ve guessed, but we’ve heard of Link. We want to find out what happened,” he said. Sana looked at him, and he tried to press something reassuring into his expression. “We only want to help.”

“The royal family only wanted to help,” Sana said. Her shoulders slumped as her voice trailed off to nothing. “But this is all common information, so whatever. There’s a stream south of here. Follow it east into the forest, and you’ll reach the fairy temple in no time. And if you do find something out, tell me, will you?”

“We will,” Time promised. “Thank you. We’ll be leaving right after lunch.”

Sky blinked. “Wait a second. Does that mean we’re not staying in Kakariko tonight?”

“Afraid not.”

All the fantasies of a real bed after weeks of camping in the wilderness evaporated. “Oh, no,” he breathed.

Wild laughed and patted him on the back.

* * *

Sky stilled his knife, careful not to disrupt the wood shavings piled in his lap, and took a moment to look out at the fields around him. The evening was warm—pleasantly so, the others contended, though Sky preferred it cooler—and in the distance, a dark forest broke the horizon’s smooth line. In front of him, Hyrule slashed and parried against an invisible enemy. “You’re leaning forward again,” Sky said.

Hyrule made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. He adjusted his torso and shifted his grip on his sword. The sinking sun’s light caught on the sword’s red jewels, making them glow like fire. “It just feels natural to lean like that.”

“I know,” Sky said. “You’ve been doing it that way for years, so of course the new way doesn’t feel right. But trust me, you’ll get used to it in no time, and it’ll improve your technique.”

“If you say so.” Hyrule began moving through the form again. It didn’t take long before he was leaning too much weight into his front foot. Before Sky could correct him, he paused and sheathed his sword with an annoyed sigh.

He flopped down next to Sky, who rested against the trunk of the only tree around for miles. An errant piece of hair settled over his flushed face, and he blew at it, but it only fell back down when he stopped.

“I’m never going to get it right,” he said.

Sky took a moment to slide his knife into its sheath. “Look, I can’t do that form perfectly either.”

“Better than me.”

“Sure, but I’ve had years of formal training. From what you’ve told me, you’ve had none, so the fact that you’re so good anyway means you have a lot of potential. You just have to tap it.”

Hyrule exhaled sharply in a sort of half-laugh. “Thanks.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, and his neck craned so he could look at Sky’s lap. “What are you carving?”

“Oh, this?” Sky held up the narrow piece of wood, the shape of a blade and hilt just emerging from it. “It’s the Master Sword.”

“I can see that it’s a sword?” Hyrule said, sounding uncertain.

Sky laughed. “I’m only in the beginning stages.” He rotated the wood in his hand. “Anyway, all my specialized woodcarving tools are in Skyloft. I won’t be able to do any fine detail until I get back there.”

The thought of home made Sky’s chest tight. He missed his woodcarving tools. He missed the thin, frigid air of Skyloft and the touch of his loftwing’s feathers. Mostly, he just missed Zelda.

Still, as Hyrule took the carving from Sky’s hand and flipped it over and over, Sky couldn’t help but smile. It was decidedly enjoyable to be on an adventure with a pace just the opposite of his original frantic dash across the Surface. He knew that once he and the others completed whatever task the goddess had set for them, he would be able to return to Skyloft and to a peaceful life with Zelda.

Hyrule handed the carving back with such caution that Sky couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, you don’t have to be so careful. It’s not the Master Sword herself.”

Hyrule smiled. “Still,” he said. His gaze skipped to where Fi lay in the grass next to Sky. “Do you think…”

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think I could ever wield that sword?”

Thrown by the change in subject, Sky busied himself with tucking away the carving, knife, and shavings. Eventually, he said, “Of course you could. You already drew her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t used it. I mean like, could I wield it in a real battle?”

“If you can draw her, she’s deemed you worthy. The rest is just practice.” Sky hummed. “She’s bigger and probably heavier than your sword. It would be a different weight balance. But nothing inherently harder, just different.”

“I hope so.” Hyrule pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “I just know it would take me forever to learn, though. I’m not a natural like you.”

For a fleeting moment, Sky thought of telling Hyrule about the first weeks of his journey. Of the way he had struggled not with the sword itself, but with Fi, with her callousness during the worst moments of Sky’s life. Of the way Sky’s frustration with her had slowed him down, hurt him and the world he was trying to save.

But that wasn’t something Sky was particularly keen to talk about, and it wasn’t what Hyrule meant, either. After all, Fi wasn’t awake, and Hyrule knew it. So he just said, “Don’t belittle yourself. You know that’s not true. I’ve had a lot of practice with her, and you haven’t, and I could help you with getting more.”

Hyrule didn’t take his eyes off Fi. After a moment, Sky leaned forward and lifted up her scabbard, angling her so that her hilt faced him. “In fact, do you want to try right now?”

“Really?” Hyrule said.

Sky shrugged. “Why not?” In response, Hyrule only looked at Fi’s hilt and bit his lip, so Sky said, “You’re Link, just like the rest of us. You didn’t need her on your journey. So what? She’s still yours as much as she is mine.”

Hyrule nodded. He grabbed Fi’s hilt.

“Are you two done swinging swords around? Dinner’s ready.”

Sky startled and turned to see Legend, who stood just a few meters away. Hyrule scrambled to his feet. “Sorry,” he said. “We lost track of time.”

“Come on, then.” Legend jerked his head in the direction of camp and walked away. As Hyrule hurried after him, Sky got to his feet more slowly and settled Fi’s scabbard on his back, held there by leather straps. Suddenly alone, an odd sort of melancholy washed over him. He and Fi had eventually figured out their problems and become what Sky might call friends, but before he could find out for sure, she was gone.

He tilted his head so that it was angled towards Fi’s hilt. “I miss you. I don’t understand why you had to leave.”

Fi did not respond. She never would, Sky knew. When this adventure came to an end, he would be reunited with Skyloft, with his loftwing, and with Zelda. He would never be reunited with Fi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first fic I've posted anywhere in years, so I'm quite excited and nervous! I hope you liked it. The fic is already complete except for minor line edits, and updates will be weekly. The title is from the song "Alright" by Maxton Waller, written for one of my favorite podcasts.
> 
> Thoughts welcome <3


	2. The Fairy Temple

Twenty-four hours after leaving Kakariko, Sky craned his neck to study the fairy temple’s facade. Half-destroyed stairs led up to an intricately carved stone entrance marred by explosion craters and ivy. Sana had called the temple abandoned, but Sky wondered how voluntary that abandonment had really been.

The dark trees and persistent damp chill of the forest around them made it hard for him to imagine fairies ever living here at all, though. The forest had, as Hyrule had said, something magical about it, and not in a good way.

“When we get in there, everyone stays close to each other,” Time said as Twilight coaxed Epona to wait for them under a tree. “No one goes wandering off.”

Legend crossed his arms. “We know, Old Man. Let’s go before we waste the day away.”

They made it up the undamaged side of the stairs one by one. The last one through, Sky lifted his sailcloth so it wouldn’t drag in the rubble and emerged into a sort of mudroom, plain and just large enough for the nine of them to fit. Every inch of it was made of stone, except for the opposite wall, where a wooden door stood with a fairy carved into its face, her hands spread wide. Unreadable Hylian script swept across the stone above it.

“I hope that says _welcome, visitors,_ ” Legend said and grabbed the door’s handle.

A crash nearly knocked Sky off of his feet. He grabbed clumsily at the wall and blinked into the sudden darkness. His hand brushed over metal where the entrance used to be. “It’s trapped us in!”

“Hang on, I have a lamp,” Legend said. Leather slid against fabric. Sky leaned back against the metal and waited for light to reach his eyes again. His ears rung, and the tips of his fingers tingled.

“Does anyone else feel weird?” Wind said, his voice echoing strangely through the room.

“It kind of feels like—”

A sensation like cold water poured over Sky’s head, making him gasp and rock back on his heels. A torch against the opposite wall brought light flooding into his eyes, revealing the floor under his boots to be wooden. No one else was in sight.

He was not in the room he’d been in moments before.

Claws snapped through the air. Sky staggered out of the way just in time, bringing a hand to Fi’s hilt. The monster, a skeleton of some creature, made a sort of hissing noise and launched itself forward. Sky brought Fi up just in time for its bony claws to skitter off her blade.

He lunged forward, slashing across the monster’s shoulder and down into its chest. The bones shuddered, their invisible bonds breaking. It collapsed into a heap.

Sky took a moment to stare at it. The skull’s empty eyes stared back, peering out over an elongated snout. A stalfos made out of a lizalfos skeleton, he realized, instead of a Hylian’s.

Once he was reasonably sure the lizalfos skeleton wouldn’t suddenly reanimate, he looked around the room. The torch illuminated it well enough, revealing another door set into the wall, though this one lacked any decoration.

Sky walked up to it and let his hand hover over the handle without touching it. “Don’t teleport me,” he said. His skin brushed over it.

Nothing happened. With a breath, Sky adjusted his grip on Fi and pushed the door open.

It swung away to reveal a short hallway lit with more torches and entirely deserted up to the door at its opposite end.

Sky stepped forward.

A spark cracked. White fire bloomed out of thin air and rushed towards him. He stumbled back, slamming the door. As he retreated to the far corner of the room, the door creaked, and groaned, and eventually flung open. Fire streamed inwards like the air was made of gas, the brightness forcing his eyes to slits as he pressed himself against the wall. The heat that came with it hit him like a physical wave.

Trapped.

Fi’s blade glowed.

Sky jerked and held her out in front of him. Without his prompting, she tilted forward, moving on her own just like she did when he dowsed, except he didn’t know what she was pointing at.

He let her tug him forwards, towards the lizalfos skeleton. Her blade dipped until its tip rested on a small black stone tucked into the lizalfos’s spine. Under the overwhelming brightness of the flames, it shined like dark glass.

With a swift, downward stroke, Sky cleaved the brittle stone in two. The rush of flames faded until the room was dark, their heat lingering in the dead air.

He slumped forwards, pressing Fi into the ground and leaning his weight against her. Sweat gathered in the hollow of his neck. Hoping his voice didn’t quiver, he asked, “Fi?”

She did not respond.

“Thank you,” he said.

He staggered to his feet and to the door. Nothing attacked, even when he stepped into the hallway.

The door at the other end gave way to reveal a large, circular room with a vaulted ceiling. In the center stood a fountain—or what had probably been a fountain at some point—with a fairy statue perched atop it. Only one half of her wings was intact, still arching gracefully through the air.

Every few feet along the walls of the room stood another door just like the plain one Sky had come through, except for the one directly across from the fairy’s gaze. Stunning as it was—twice as large as the others with a metal design of fairy wings set into it—something else caught Sky’s eye. He smiled. “Traveler.”

Hyrule turned where he stood in front of the door. “Sky.” He raised a hand to his hair to shake out the dust that covered every inch of him, but otherwise, he looked unharmed.

“Did you go rolling in the dirt?”

Hyrule grimaced. “Booby-trapped. I would’ve preferred a monster.”

“And I would’ve traded,” Sky said. He stopped next to Hyrule and looked up at the door. A lock hole sat in the center of the wings. “You wouldn’t happen to have a key, would you?”

“Actually.” Hyrule held one up and gave Sky a grin. It looked just the right size—large—and its head was shaped like fairy wings. “I was about to try it.”

“Good. I want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

Hyrule’s grin broadened. “You have no sense of adventure.” He slid the key into the lock and turned it. With a great groan, the door swung open. Together, they stepped through.

The door shut behind them. Sky tightened his grip on Fi as Hyrule drew his sword, but the rectangular room was perfectly empty of any living things.

Instead, there were tapestries. The thick blankets of fabric hung off every wall, depicting scene after scene of the fairies. One showed fairies dancing among light-speckled trees with the temple in the background, so different from the damp and dark forest the Links had walked through. Others depicted fairies meeting with the different races of Hyrule.

Two depicted Hylians. One had a woman and a man, each in elaborate dress with silver, wing-shaped tattoos sweeping over their cheekbones. They stood across from a group of fairies who whispered among each other. The other tapestry depicted a young Hylian girl in simple dress without the tattoos. She sat with fairies perched on her shoulders, and on her head, she wore a silver circlet with a blue gem that pressed down between her eyebrows. Her face wore an awed expression.

Hyrule wandered into the middle of the room, spinning around again and again, his expression mirroring the girl’s. “It’s beautiful.”

“It really is,” Sky agreed, but the contrast between this room and the temple’s destroyed facade made him frown. “The monsters here…. This temple isn’t just abandoned. Someone drove them out.”

Hyrule stopped. His eyes darkened. “Ganon. He’s alive here. It must’ve been— _Sky!_ ”

A raw and heavy force careened into Sky’s side. He didn’t have time to cry out before he was pinned to the ground by huge paws. Above him stood a sort of leopard, except that its skin looked like it was made out of cracked, melting tar. Blinding light broke out of the cracks.

Sky tried to turn Fi onto the creature, but a paw on his wrist prevented him from moving her. The creature roared and opened its mouth full of bright, shining teeth.

And then, as soon as it had appeared, it vanished. Hyrule’s sword went flying over Sky’s face. Sky jerked back and scrambled to a sitting position, and Hyrule held out a hand.

“Thanks,” Sky said, taking it. He stood and turned so that he was back to back with Hyrule, but the room was empty once more.

“I don’t know if I did anything. I was about to hit it, but it disappeared.”

Sky’s stomach flipped. “So, what, it can turn invisible?”

“Apparently.”

For a bit, the only sound in the room was the sound of their breathing. Sky let his eyes flicker back and forth, wondering where the creature was. A knot of worry tied itself up in his stomach, almost painfully so.

Just as before, Fi glowed and tugged at Sky’s hand. “Fi?” he muttered and took a step away from Hyrule in the direction she wanted to go.

Pain burst in his stomach like a firework. Fi clattered out of his hands, his breath caught.

“Sky?”

He collapsed to his knees. An urgent hand pressed against his shoulder. “Did that thing hurt you?”

His hands scrambled over his stomach, but he couldn’t feel any blood or tears in his clothing, despite the searing pain. “I—I don’t know.” He fell back against his heels and leaned forward, closing his eyes.

Hyrule’s touch ran over his back. “Sky, look at me. Where does it hurt?”

The pain morphed into a pull, like someone was yanking Sky’s spine out through his belly button. He gasped on a cry and bit his tongue.

“Shit.” Hyrule’s hands tightened on his shoulder for a brief second before disappearing.

Sky peered through blurry, shaking vision to see Hyrule fending off an attack from the glowing creature. He landed a hit across its face. It roared and vanished, appearing two seconds later behind him. He ducked.

An ache crept up Sky’s back and neck until it cradled his head. He fell entirely to the floor as his eyes slipped closed.

He was brought violently back to reality by fingernails digging into his cheek. He shuddered against them, trying to pull away. “There you are,” said a hard, unfamiliar voice. “Come out now.”

His eyes flew open to meet a woman’s face. Her braid pooled on the floor, and her smile, made up of two perfect rows of white teeth, turned wide and menacing when her eyes met Sky’s gaze.

Pain shuddered through him when he tried to pull away, leaving him paralyzed.

“I was getting impatient, you know,” the woman said. “Killing the wielder of the sword of legend wasn’t so hard the first time around. But we’re almost done. Just a little—”

“Stop this.”

The second voice rung in Sky’s head with a clear tone he hadn’t heard in months. “Fi!” he cried and forced his eyes to look to the side. She hovered, in humanoid form, over the dropped Master Sword.

She didn’t look away from the woman. “Master Link. You must wield me. I will guide you to defeat the spirit creatures, and you can escape.”

“Good luck with that.” The woman sneered and curled her knuckles against Sky’s cheek. “In the meantime, I’ll just—”

“You will do no such thing.”

Blinding light burst from the gem on Fi’s chest. Sky’s ears popped, and his eyes forced themselves shut without his consent.

“Sky, look at me!” A hand shook his shoulder. “Open your eyes.”

A deep ache settled in his abdomen. “My stomach,” he said.

“What?”

He pushed his eyelids open with some effort. Hyrule’s face swam into focus above him, but the woman and Fi were nowhere to be seen. “You asked where it hurt.”

Hyrule unbuckled Sky’s belt and shoved his layers of fabric and chainmail up to reveal his torso. Sky’s gaze drifted to where the Master Sword lay on the ground. What had Fi said?

“The problem must be internal,” Hyrule said. “But I can’t feel—”

That was it. Sky grabbed Hyrule’s wrist. “The Master Sword. You have to wield her.”

“Sky, let me—”

“No. This is how you help me. She’ll guide you. Trust her.” When Hyrule hesitated, Sky craned his neck to meet his eyes. He ignored the way his stomach twisted itself into a knot, radiating little shocks of pain. His fingernails dug into the leather of Hyrule’s glove. “Trust _me_.”

Hyrule bit his lip. “Okay.” He grabbed Fi in two hands and kneeled, staring at her.

Sky curled in on himself and closed his eyes. “Do you feel her guiding you?”

“I feel it.”

Hyrule’s boots slid across the floor. _Please be fast, please be fast,_ Sky pleaded in his mind. He dreaded the moment he opened his eyes to see the woman again, so he kept them stubbornly closed. His abdomen turned numb, and then his shoulders and hips, and then his limbs. He bit his tongue until it bled.

 _Goddess Hylia,_ he prayed, _walk with me and grant me strength._

Hands grabbed his wrists, their touch rough and uncaring, and pulled him upwards. He didn’t resist. He couldn’t. His muscles were turned to putty.

“Get him!” the woman screamed, but Sky didn’t know to whom. She pushed Sky into the air with a sharp jerk. Weightless, he waited for the moment he would fall.

He never did.

He opened his eyes. Below him, the room sprawled out like one of the fairies’ tapestries. The woman stood over his body— _his body?_ —her arms held up and her hands splayed above her. Hyrule struck a blow against the creature before using the Master Sword to tear a hole in a tapestry. Behind it, set into the wall, was a black stone. A semi-translucent, glowing string stretched from it to the waist of the creature. Sky looked at the woman and saw a string at her waist, too, but it stretched off in the opposite direction with no stone in sight.

He looked for Fi. She was nowhere to be seen. He tried to reach out, touch the floor and ground himself, but he only floated upwards. When he reached the ceiling, he wondered, would he stop or keep going forever?

His mind fogged. “Let me down,” he said.

“Faster!” the woman screeched at the creature. It shook off Hyrule’s blow and leapt towards him.

Hyrule struck the stone. The creature shimmered and vanished. He raised the Master Sword and whirled, running back towards the woman but not seeing her. “Damn it!” the woman cried. She raised a hand, snapped her fingers, and disappeared. Hyrule paused, shaking the Master Sword of dust from the stone, obviously preparing for another attack.

Sky reached out a hand. He was so far away, but he still hoped Hyrule would hear him when he whispered, “Traveler.”

Cold metal touched his fingers. A soothing light enveloped him, and he let his eyes drift closed.

In the next moment, he no longer floated above the room. He stood, solid and anchored, beside Hyrule. Fi drew her arm away from his fingers. Her head drooped. “I apologize, Master.”

Words crowded Sky’s mouth, a million questions all scrambling to get out. In the end, he just said, “What?”

Fi raised her head with some effort. “The spirit was stronger than I first hypothesized, and I made a mistake in judgment. You have paid the cost, but take solace that I have prevented you from being released into the cycle of reincarnation.”

“What?” Sky repeated in alarm.

Fi’s eyes half-closed. “I must rest. I will return as soon as I am able.”

“Wait—”

But Fi was gone.

“Sky.”

Sky turned to Hyrule, but Hyrule didn’t look at him. Instead, he stared at Sky’s body, still laid out on the floor in the center of the room. He stumbled forward clumsily until he could crouch by it and drop the Master Sword. “No. No no no.”

Sky’s heart sank.

Hyrule rolled the body onto its back and shook its shoulder. “Sky. Look at me.” He tilted its head back and hovered his hand over its mouth and nose. “Come on. You need to breathe.” He curled his fingers across the underside of its wrist. “ _Please_ , you can’t do this.”

“I’m not,” Sky said. “I’m right here, Traveler.”

Hyrule didn’t look up. Sky crouched and pressed a hand against his shoulder. “I don’t understand,” Hyrule said. He shook the body with a sharp jerk of his hands. “I did what you asked. Why aren’t you breathing?”

Hyrule’s tunic felt dull against Sky’s shaking fingers. Its rough weave didn’t scrape against his skin like it normally did. When Sky tightened his grip to steady himself, the fabric didn’t bunch.

“That’s not me,” he promised. He was here, gripping Hyrule’s shoulder. His knees dug into the stone beneath him. His sailcloth hung heavy off his back. The body was just a copy, a facsimile.

Hyrule pressed his forehead against its chest. “You can’t do this. You _can’t_ , you just—you have to wake up, Sky. _Sky._ ”

Sky looked at the Master Sword, lying by Hyrule’s feet. A semi-translucent, glowing string stretched from her hilt to his waist.

“Wake up,” Hyrule pleaded, but Sky couldn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for nothing, except perhaps the sheer amount of tapestries. They’re just so beautiful in my mind, I swear.
> 
> On a more serious note, let me know if you’re utterly confused by anything. You’re not meant to understand everything just yet, but if you can't make any sense of the broad strokes, my writing has gone astray.


	3. The Hours After

Sky sat by Hyrule’s side and angled his face away from the body. The Hylian with fairies perched on her arms, her face woven out of a thousand threads, stared back.

Hyrule had stopped talking. He kept one hand pressed against the body’s cheek. He hadn’t moved for three minutes. Something would have to give eventually, Sky knew. Hyrule would decide to move on, or—

Wild’s voice came muffled through the door. “Look, there’s a key already in the lock.”

The door creaked open. Sky looked past Hyrule to see Wild flanked by Four, Time, and Legend. Wild took several steps forward. “What’s wrong with Sky?”

Hyrule’s fingers curled until his hand was almost a fist, but he didn’t look up. Wild dropped down by his side almost hesitantly. “Traveler?” He put a hand on Hyrule’s shoulder but looked down at the body, watching its chest. His face dawned in comprehension.

“Don’t tell me…” Four muttered as he got close to the body. Time kneeled and took its pulse. Legend grabbed Hyrule’s wrists and pulled him away. He turned Hyrule’s forearm over, scrutinizing a claw mark cut into his arm. Hyrule hadn’t done anything to treat it, and blood soaked his sleeve.

“Did you use any magic?”

Hyrule shook his head.

Legend pulled a red potion from his bag and handed it to Hyrule, who knocked it back with one, smooth movement. Legend used his sleeve to wipe the blood away from newly-healed skin. He stilled, staring at the torn fabric.

In one sharp movement, he pulled Hyrule into a hug. Hyrule collapsed and pressed his face into Legend’s shoulder.

By Sky’s body, Wild looked through his slate. “There used to be—I had this _power_ ,” he said. “It would probably be too late anyway, but—but I could’ve _asked_ her—”

Four put a hand on his shoulder, quieting him. Time smoothed the body’s clothing down and buckled its belt over the wrap.

None of them noticed Sky watching them.

“I’m sorry to ask this,” Time said, looking at Hyrule with an unreadable expression. “But how did it happen?”

Hyrule pulled away from Legend, but Legend kept a hand on his shoulder and glared at Time. “I think that can wait.”

“No, it’s fine,” Hyrule said. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Wild asked.

In carefully chosen, quiet words, Hyrule explained. From his perspective, the creature had attacked Sky, and he had collapsed soon afterwards. Sky had told Hyrule to use the Master Sword, which had led him to the black stone. Once the stone was destroyed, the creature had stopped attacking.

Halfway through, Four hugged himself, arms crossing where the colors on his tunic met, and walked away to pace along the walls of the room.

Hyrule had never seen the woman and couldn’t have surmised that she did something to Sky. She had been invisible to him. Sky stared at the string that connected him to Fi. He touched it, and his hand passed right through.

The woman had been invisible, just like Sky was now. He thought of the skeleton lizalfos and the flames from nowhere. Had there been something there he simply couldn’t see?

“So, I guess the creature did something to him,” Hyrule concluded. “Something he thought would stop once I got rid of the stone. But I wasn’t fast enough.”

After a long moment, Legend broke the silence. “This world is fucked up.”

“We need to find the rest of the group,” Time said. “And—”

Stone rumbled. Sky flung his arms out to keep his balance and wondered what monster would greet them next.

Across the room, Four’s head ducked out from behind the lone Hylian’s tapestry. “Sorry.”

“What was that?” Legend said as he slid his sword back into its sheath.

“I noticed some of the stones were discolored behind the tapestry. So I pressed them down, and there’s a room back here.”

Four ducked behind the tapestry again, and Legend sighed, following him. Time stood and told Wild, “Stay with the traveler.”

Grateful for a distraction, Sky disappeared behind the tapestry with the three of them. Legend’s lamp illuminated the room, revealing it to be a small square with plain stone walls. Four dug through an open treasure chest and held up a silver circlet. Its front dipped dramatically until it came to a point where a blue gemstone rested.

Exactly like the circlet the girl in the tapestry wore.

“This might be what we’re looking for.”

“You call that armor?” Legend said.

“It’s the best we’ve found.” Four’s fingers pressed against it as he ran his hands down its length. “The metal is quality. The circlet itself is well-made. And Sana didn’t specify what it looked like.”

“It’s the best we have, and we need to leave,” Time said. “We’ll take it with us.”

Four dug more circlets out of the chest and slipped them into his bag. He counted out eight and hesitated.

“I’ll need it,” Sky told him, unable to control himself. “I’ll get my body back, and then I’ll need it.”

Fi wasn’t around, but she had promised she would be back. She just needed to rest. When she woke up, she would have the answers, and everything would be all right.

A ninth circlet disappeared into Four’s bag. Then, with an almost guilty glance at Time and Legend, he added two more. “In case we need extra.”

Legend crossed his arms and looked away. Time simply nodded.

The four of them emerged from behind the tapestry just in time to hear Wind’s shout echo from the next room over. Wild popped to his feet when he saw them, nodded, and ran out of the room. Legend and Four followed.

Hyrule remained crouched by the body. “We can’t just leave him here.”

“We won’t.” Time grabbed the Master Sword, sheathing her in the scabbard still attached to the body’s back. With a touch Sky could almost call delicate, he slid an arm under its shoulders and another under its knees.

When he stood, he shifted his arms so that Sky’s body curled inwards. Its neck fell toward his chest and its head rested against his bicep, mouth slightly parted.

Wrapped up in Time’s arms like that, Sky looked so small.

Time didn’t carry his body far. When they made it to the circular room with the fountain, he set it down and demanded, “What’s going on?”

Wind ducked under a jet of water aimed at him by a blue lizalfos. “Magic!”

“We don’t know,” Twilight said tersely.

Warriors shot fire in the direction of the lizalfos that had shot the jet of water, ignoring another lizalfos that stalked around him in a circle, much closer. “The water’s coming out of nowhere!”

Sky spotted the semi-translucent strings that stretched from the lizalfos’s midsections. They connected to two black stones, each hidden under a pile of bones.

“You have to—” Sky cut himself off and groaned. “Traveler, do something!”

Hyrule stood next to Time, his eyes searching, but they darted over the walls, not the ground. “Grab Fi,” Sky said. “She’ll guide you.”

Hyrule drew his own sword instead, but he still didn’t move. A blast of water caught Warriors in the side, sending him sprawling. Hyrule spun in a circle.

Sky grabbed Hyrule’s arm and pulled. He couldn’t move it an inch. The first lizalfos unrolled its tongue lazily and eyed Four and Wind, who now stood back to back. The second one advanced on Warriors again. Sky bit down on a curse, ran to where the skeletons lay, and found the stone among the vertebrae.

He placed his hands over it, braced his feet, and pulled. Though it couldn’t have weighed more than a couple of ounces, it didn’t budge.

The lizalfos let out another shot of water, and Warriors cried out.

“Those stones!”

Hyrule’s voice rung clear in Sky’s head. He whipped around to see Hyrule race towards him and bring his sword’s blade down on one of the stones. As the stone shattered, a lizalfos winked out of existence.

Another strike, and the second vanished, too.

“Thank the goddess,” Sky breathed.

“Good job,” Twilight said as he helped Warriors to rest against the fountain. “How’d you know what to do?”

Warriors’s legs shook underneath him. He clutched at his side with both hands. _Useless,_ Sky realized. _Absolutely useless._

He shook his head. No. Fi would come, and everything would be okay. He just had to be patient.

A sharp breath from Wind prevented Hyrule from responding. “Is he okay?”

Everyone’s gaze snapped to Sky’s body, lying limp by the tapestry room’s door. “No. He’s gone,” Time said.

“Shit,” Warriors breathed.

Wind made a choked noise. He pushed past Four, Legend, and Time to drop by the body’s side and clutch at its arm. “He’s not—he’s not _really_ —he _can’t_ be.”

Twilight looked sick to his stomach, but he helped Warriors limp to the body’s side. With some effort, Warriors kneeled and slung an arm around Wind’s shoulders. With the other hand, he smoothed the body’s hair away from its face. “He went in battle. We should all wish to go so nobly.”

“I’m still here,” Sky told them, but it didn’t matter. Everyone looked at his lifeless body and not at him.

Wind’s shoulders shuddered. Warriors pulled him into his side as he broke into a sob.

Sky turned his back on the others. He focused on keeping his breathing steady. “Please, Fi, I need you here,” he said.

She did not answer.

* * *

When the group stepped out of the forest and into the grassy hills that surrounded Kakariko Village, the wind picked up and rustled the others’ clothing. Sky couldn’t feel a thing. He couldn’t even feel the air turn warm and dry around him like he knew it must’ve.

The Links didn’t speak except for Wild, who helped Twilight coax Epona forward by murmuring into her ear and petting her mane. She didn’t like the makeshift stretcher she dragged, Sky’s body lashed to it like simple cargo.

Warriors, who looked much better after a potion had been forced into him, broke the silence. “We should give him a proper burial. There’s plenty of space out here.”

Sky bit his cheek. They didn’t need to bury him. They just needed to wait until Fi showed up and fixed the situation.

“Someone’ll have to carry his sword. It’s not the kind of thing we can bury with him,” Twilight said. He looked at the others, but no one volunteered. Sky hoped it wasn’t because they were unwilling. He knew Time didn’t like Fi, but he didn’t think that applied to the rest of them. Twilight sighed. “But we can decide that later.”

“We should also take the sailcloth with us,” Warriors said. “He said his Zelda made it for him. If we ever travel through his Hyrule, we can return it and the sword to her.”

Sky got close and brushed a hand over Warriors’s scarf. “Thank you. It won’t be needed, I promise. But thank you.”

He didn’t think a lot about his own death, but now that he had to, it was good to know they would take care of him.

Half an hour later, the group deemed a peaceful spot on a low hill appropriate. Three of them had shovels, so Legend, Time, and Twilight set to work digging up the earth. Wild provided the wood for Four and Warriors to construct a makeshift coffin, then let Wind drag him and Hyrule off to find flowers. Epona stood off to the side, seeming pleased that the stretcher had been detached.

Sky lay on the grass next to Fi. He rested a hand on her scabbard and tried to relax. He wanted to sleep, if that were possible, but he didn’t feel tired. Instead, he simply tried to breathe and appreciate the beauty of the world. The hilly landscape’s thick grass swayed in the breeze under an evening sky painted with the sunset’s colors. The goddess had seen fit for his life to be preserved, even in this tenuous state, and he had to remember he was lucky for it.

Hyrule, Wind, and Wild returned quickly. Wind and Hyrule carried wildflowers, and Wild lugged a large rock. “To mark the grave,” he explained. They set their supplies off to the side, and Wind fussed over the flowers’ placement so they wouldn’t get crushed.

Wild turned to Four and Warriors. “Need any help?”

Four, trying to keep a board vertical with a foot while his hands did two different things, said, “Yeah. Would a couple of you hold this plank steady?”

Wind and Wild dropped to their knees on either side of the coffin—goddess, the _coffin_ —leaving Hyrule standing alone. His gaze traveled over everyone on the hill. “Do we have any more shovels?”

Legend paused to lean against his. “No. You shouldn’t be doing anything too strenuous with your hand, anyway. You want it to heal correctly.”

Hyrule’s frown deepened. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“I think we’ve got it covered.”

“Are you sure? There’s nothing I—”

“Traveler.” Legend’s voice was firm. “Why don’t you sit down and rest?”

“Would you stop fussing over me?” Hyrule said, sharp. His eyes narrowed. “I’m fine, and I can help.”

Sky pulled his hand away from Fi’s scabbard and leaned forward.

“I’m sorry that I’m worried about my friend who might need some time to process what—”

“Well, I’m sorry that I want to help our friend who _died!_ ”

Sky’s spine turned to ice.

Hyrule flung an arm out towards Sky’s body. “That’s right! Everyone else is fine with shuffling around it, so I’ll be the one to say it! He _died,_ and I was there, and I couldn’t stop it! Now that the facts are out there, would you stop acting like I’m going to collapse any second and let me help for once!”

Legend stared, his mouth half-parted.

Hyrule turned on his heel and stalked down the hill. “Traveler,” Sky muttered as he passed. He cast an anxious glance at the group before following Hyrule down.

At the bottom of the hill, Hyrule collapsed into the grass. He pulled his knees up and braced his arms against them, taking several deep breaths. With some hesitation, Sky joined him and settled his hand on Hyrule’s shoulder.

Hyrule quivered under the touch. He clenched his fists, took two more breaths, and whispered, “I’m so dumb. I’m so _dumb._ ”

Sky’s heart broke.

“I’m sorry I left you,” he said, blinking hard, because he had, hadn’t he? He’d been insisting that he was still here, and he was, but Hyrule didn’t—couldn’t—know that. “I’m going to come back, I promise, and it will all be okay. That doesn’t make it better now, I know.”

Partly because he thought Hyrule might sense it in some corner of his mind, but mostly because he needed it for himself, Sky shifted closer, wrapped an arm around Hyrule’s shoulders, and lay his head in the crook of Hyrule’s neck.

“Fi will know what to do,” he said, closing his eyes. “And then it will be okay.”

It had to be.

Boots crunched in the grass behind them. “You done yelling at me?” Legend said.

“Yeah.”

The grass shifted again. Legend settled into it, the sounds coming too close, and Sky jolted. He looked down to see Legend’s chest sticking out of his own. With a gasp, he tumbled forward. He dug his hands into the ground and reminded himself that it was solid. When he looked back, Legend sat exactly where Sky had been a moment ago, utterly oblivious.

“I’m sorry,” Hyrule said.

“Don’t apologize,” Legend snapped. “You’re allowed to be upset after seeing a friend die.”

With hesitant steps, Sky returned to sit in front of Legend and Hyrule. He kept his eyes peeled for anyone else.

“Still, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well.” Legend looked away. “I could help you. I couldn’t help Sky.”

Hyrule slumped into Legend’s side. “I tried to help him, but I couldn’t tell what was wrong with him, and then—and then I wasn’t fast enough, and after all that, I still don’t know what happened.” He looked up. “He was in so much pain, and I couldn’t do anything, Collector. I was useless.”

“Don’t say that,” Sky pleaded when Legend fell silent. “It’s not true.” He thought of the way the creature had disappeared into thin air, and the woman right after. Then Fi, appearing and dragging him down to be somehow bonded to the Master Sword. Had Hyrule been any slower, Fi might not have been able to do anything at all.

“Collector?” Hyrule said.

“Sometimes, it doesn’t matter. Sometimes, there’s nothing you _can_ do,” Legend said, his voice low. He closed his eyes, opened them, and met Hyrule’s gaze. “You can’t let this gnaw at you. You need something else to focus on, something productive you can do.”

Hyrule hummed. “Did you know Sky was going to teach me how to use the Master Sword?”

Sky blinked in surprise.

“I knew he was helping you with your sword-fighting in general,” Legend said.

“Well, he was.” Hyrule straightened his back so that he sat up fully. “I found the stone behind the wall hanging because the Master Sword guided me there. It knew where to go, so it can obviously help us in this world.”

“You’re thinking of taking the ranch hand up on his offer?” Legend said, catching on to the same thread Sky had, though he didn’t sound happy about it.

Hyrule nodded, almost frantically. “I didn’t even know about the Master Sword until the portals, unlike the rest of you. Maybe this is my time to use it.” He paused. “My time to prove myself.”

“You don’t have to prove yourself,” Legend said.

“I do.”

“No, you don’t. You’re a perfectly capable hero already.”

“Obviously not, after today.”

“Don’t say that,” Sky and Legend said at the same time. Sky flinched and watched as Legend continued, “That’s a dumb thing to say, and you know it.”

“Whatever,” Hyrule said. “Besides. Can you look at me and say that Sky wouldn’t want someone to use it?”

“It doesn’t have to be you.”

“Would Sky be against me, though?”

“I wouldn’t,” Sky said.

Legend glared, but even without being able to hear Sky, he knew the answer. “No.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“That doesn’t mean he would be _right._ ”

Hyrule met Legend’s gaze with his chin jut out. “Do you think I can’t handle it?”

“You could handle it,” Legend said. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

Hyrule’s voice was sharp, his shoulders tense. He looked just like he had when he’d snapped on the top of the hill. If Legend did anything but relent, Sky was afraid it would blow up in his face.

Legend stared at him for a long moment. He crossed his arms. “It doesn’t matter. Wield the sword if you want.”

Hyrule relaxed into the grass, but his expression remained stormy. Sky didn’t know why Legend was so against the idea, but hopefully it wouldn’t matter. The situation would be fixed in no time, and Hyrule wouldn’t have to take on the responsibility anyway.

Over the top of the hill, Warriors appeared. His blue scarf whipped in the wind. Before he was close enough to speak, Sky shifted closer to Hyrule. “Just between you and me, thank you. You’ll wield her well.”

“We’re ready to bury him,” Warriors said. Hyrule and Legend looked to him, ignoring Sky entirely. “Do you two want to come back?”

“Of _course_ ,” Hyrule said.

Warriors pulled Hyrule to his feet with a hand and exchanged a glance with Legend, who shrugged. The three of them made their way up the hill together, but Sky didn’t follow. He didn’t want to watch his own body be lowered into the earth. It would make this temporary situation feel all too real.

Instead, he lay back in the grass and stared into the evening sky. He let familiar words settle into his mind, words that had kept him going during the darkest moments of his life.

_Goddess Hylia, you are my shelter in the storm. Walk with me and grant me strength._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not religious, so I was definitely googling "prayers for times of trouble" while writing this. In the end, the themes of refuge ("shelter in the storm") and strength ("grant me strength") were pulled from the first line of Psalm 46. I read the NIV version, and that psalm is a powerful piece of biblical poetry, in case you're interested.


	4. Concerning Sana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning for thoughts/speech that is, if not exactly suicidal, at least adjacent to it. Read safely. <3

The next evening, Sana’s inn remained as it had been a couple days before—completely empty. Sky settled with his back against a wall. He dreaded the process he knew they would have to go through, the process of her realizing he was dead, but he couldn’t escape it.

“Right on schedule,” Sana said from where she stood behind the counter. “And just in time for supper. You really made it to the temple?”

Time nodded. “Yes. We found something we think might be what you were talking about, and we wanted to ask you to confirm.”

“So you actually did it, huh?”

“Yes.”

“You’re insane.” Sana snorted and looked over the rest of the group. “Hang on. Where’s the one with the sword of legend replica?”

Sky closed his eyes.

“He was killed in the temple,” Time said.

“…I see. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Sky breathed in and opened his eyes to see Sana staring at the group with a mystified expression.

“Something like that happened, and you’re still planning to go to Castle Valley? You know that place will be more dangerous than the temple,” she said.

Sky looked at the others. They had not discussed the possibility of calling off their mission in the wake of his death, but they didn’t need to.

“Of course we are,” Warriors said. “It’s what’s right, and we’re going to do what’s right.”

Sana laughed. “You know what, your whole group reminds me of—never mind. Show me what you found?”

Four pulled out one of the metal circlets and presented it to Sana. She rotated it in her hands and watched as the iridescent metal reflected a shifting rainbow of colors. “This is it, all right. Before Ganon, fairy armor was rare—the royal family didn’t like it—but now it’s even more so. I haven’t seen it in years….” She gave the circlet back to Four. “Wear that when you’re in the fogs of Castle Valley, and do not take it off for any reason. If you do, you will die.”

“Thank you,” Four said. He pulled the other circlets out of his bag and handed them out to the others.

“Are you going to stay in Kakariko tonight?” Sana asked. “I would say it’s dangerous to travel so late, but if you’re serious about Castle Valley, you have bigger problems.”

“Maybe we do.” Time pulled out a bag of rupees. “But we’ll take some rooms.”

Sana counted out the rupees and ushered them upstairs, where she showed them two rooms with six beds each. In one of the rooms, a thin layer of dust covered the bed frames. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I’ll clean it before you sleep. I just don’t get much business in Kakariko of all places, as you might imagine.”

Sky sat down on one of the beds. It didn’t sink under his weight, and he tried not to let that fact bother him. It was just temporary, he reminded himself, but he was beginning to doubt. Fi had said she would come over a day ago, but there’d been no sign of her since.

“Why don’t you change businesses if this one’s not working out?” Legend said.

Sana hesitated. “It’s sort of… complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about it?”

“Sana doesn’t have to justify her business practices to us,” Four said.

“Actually,” Sana said, “it comes down to something I wanted to talk to you about. About Link.”

Legend and Four exchanged a glance. “We won’t refuse information on Link,” Legend said.

Sana waved a dismissive hand. “Unfortunately, it’s not the type of information that’s helpful for a search, but I hope you’ll hear me out. I don’t tell a lot of people this, which is why I didn’t tell you before, but you do seem to actually want to help Link, and it’s not exactly a secret, so—” She took a deep breath as Sky sat up and focused on her. “I’m rambling. The point is, when I said I knew Link growing up in Kakariko, I understated it. I knew him well growing up, because I’m—because I was his sister.”

Sana broke the pause that followed by gritting her teeth and continuing, “I keep this inn, because I can get information from travelers about the world outside of this village. I’ve never stopped hoping one of them will know something about what happened to Link.”

Sky’s heart swelled. Here was Link’s sister, a still-living family member when so many of them, including Sky, had no family of their own. It was like meeting Malon all over again. A rush to protect Sana overwhelmed him so quickly he didn’t know what to do with it.

“I have a sister!” Wind exclaimed. “Her name’s Aryll, and she’s ten, and I love her very much, and I’m sure your Link loved you.”

Loved, past tense. This world’s Link hadn’t been seen in many years.

“Thank you,” Sana said. “I know he did, even when we didn’t always agree about things in the end. I tried to protect him, since I was older, but I couldn’t keep the royal family from taking him away.”

“We’re going to find out what happened to him,” Twilight said.

Sana nodded. “I’ve been trying to do that for fifteen years. If you can do it where I couldn’t, you’ll have my thanks.” She rubbed her hands on her skirt. “Now that you know, I should let you settle in. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

Before anyone could respond, she’d closed the door behind her. The Links turned to stare at each other. “Should we tell her?” Twilight asked. “She’s his _sister._ ”

Sky leaned against the back of the bed frame and gripped it tightly. “Of course we should tell her.”

“Of course we should!” Wind said, and Sky beamed at him.

Wild tilted his head towards Time. “You did tell Malon.”

“But that’s different, isn’t it?” Legend said. “Malon’s the old man’s wife. It’d be hard to explain us away to her, but we’ve got a cover here.”

Wind shook his head. “I don’t think it’s different. Anyway, when we get to my world, I’m going to tell Aryll and Grandma, and you can’t stop me.”

“I don’t think the exact relationship is the point,” Four said. “The sailor can tell his family if he wants to because he’s _their_ family. So it’s not our decision to make, is it? It’s Link’s.”

The room went quiet.

Hyrule looked around. “If we ever make it to Sky’s time, are we going to tell his Zelda?”

The thought of Zelda thinking he’d died made Sky sick to his stomach. He could just imagine her face when she found out, the way it would break in two. “That’s not going to happen,” he muttered. It couldn’t.

“We will,” Warriors said, his voice certain. “She deserves to know what happened.”

“And I suppose we can’t return the sword and the sailcloth without explaining something, huh,” Hyrule said.

“But that’s different, too,” Legend pointed out. “This Link died before we ever got here. We don’t have to explain his death to anyone. He wasn’t our responsibility.”

Hyrule twisted his hands together and frowned but didn’t object.

“What if he’s not dead?” Wild said. “If you hadn’t met me and showed up in my Hyrule two years ago, you would’ve thought I was long gone.”

“That’s a possibility, too, but it seems unlikely,” Four said.

Wild sighed. “I just—do you really think a hero would’ve failed? You know, failed forever, without getting a second chance?”

“It’s very possible. We should not think ourselves invincible,” Time said.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Warriors spread his hands. “It seems to me that we have legitimate reasons to tell her, and can anyone honestly say they have a good reason not to tell her?” He raised an eyebrow. “Other than our natural propensity for keeping secrets?”

Warriors had a point, and it was clear the other Links knew it. When no one responded immediately, he nodded. “I think that answers the question.”

“Fine,” Legend said. “Let’s get it over with.”

The Links filed out of the room, but Sky stayed and lay on a bed. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine falling asleep. The last night had been hours upon hours of worry and rambling to whoever was on watch, but he still didn’t feel tired today. As soon as his eyes slipped closed, he knew it wouldn’t work. Being a ghost seemed to mean being cursed to be awake.

“Master Link.”

Sky shot up. Fi floated in front of the bed, looking just as he remembered her except for the translucent string that led away from her waist in the same direction as his.

He bit down on a laugh. “Fi! Thank the goddess you’re here.”

“Don’t thank her,” Fi said, her voice gaining a strange lilt.

Sky ignored it in favor of leaning forward and beaming at her. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“It is good that you are happy despite the circumstances.”

“It is a weird situation,” Sky admitted, “and I feel bad for what I’ve put the others through, but I’m just—you know what’s going on better than me.” He tilted his head. “And more than that, I’m happy to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

“I apologize for leaving.”

The words drew weight off of his shoulders, like a vindication for the bitter feelings Fi had left in her wake. But he just shook his head. “Don’t.” It had been Fi’s choice, in the end, to leave after her purpose was finished. Sky didn’t like it, but he didn’t have any right to blame her for it. “Anyway,” he said firmly, “I should really just be thanking you for saving my life.”

Fi shook her head. “That woman’s soul was stronger than I first expected, and she was determined to kill you. I miscalculated.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Master Sword has the power to sever the line that connects a ghost to its anchor, but it takes energy. The woman’s anchor was far away, and I hypothesized that it was best to preserve the energy needed to sever her line by directing the Hero of Hyrule to the creature’s anchor. My hypothesis was incorrect. I was not able to subdue her for long enough, and she harmed you.”

“Why was she so determined, anyway? She didn’t seem to care about the traveler.”

Fi pressed the end of her arm to her chest. “It was due to the Master Sword’s nature. Based on the woman’s words, Ganon is a ghost in this world, and the only way to destroy him is to destroy his connection to the physical realm. The Master Sword is the only object that can do that, and only the spirit of the hero can wield it, so Ganon must simply kill those with it.”

“But the traveler can wield you, too.”

“The woman was not aware of that initially.”

Sky leaned back. This was all because of Ganon, then. It was all because of Demise’s curse, the curse that Sky hadn’t been able to stop. At least this time, it was Sky who had been put in danger because of it, and not any of the others. “So this Link really is dead.”

“That hypothesis is supported by the evidence.”

“Then we’ve got to defeat this Ganon without him. Now that you’re here, I can get my body back.”

Fi hesitated. “Based on your words, I believe you are misunderstanding the situation.”

“How so?”

“When I anchored your soul to the Master Sword, I used most of my energy reserves. It is difficult for me to appear to you in the spiritual plane. It would be impossible for me to make myself visible to the physical realm, and the restoration of your soul to your body would require many times more energy than that.”

Sky searched Fi’s eyes, but as always, they were expressionless. “So you’re saying, what? You can’t put me back in my body?”

“It is possible, but I would have to regain my energy from the spiritual realm.” Fi tilted her head. Her voice became quieter. “Ever since I have gone to sleep, its energy has come to me more slowly.”

“How long?” Sky gripped the bed frame and leaned forward. “Fi, how long would it take?”

“Many months.”

The portals came every few weeks, dragging them to a new time and place. As soon as another portal came, Sky’s body would be gone. A weight settled onto his chest that made it hard to breathe. “There’s no way you can get them to bring my—my body with them? Could I appear to them like you do to me? Could you talk to them? Use your voice?”

Fi floated forwards and pressed the end of her arm down on Sky’s shoulder. It felt cold, even through the layers of fabric he wore. He flinched away from her touch. “I apologize, Master. That kind of complex light and sound manipulation would never be possible for you to perform, and it will take me many weeks to gain the energy to do so.”

Sky collapsed backwards onto the bed. He pressed a hand against his chest. Zelda’s face swam in his mind’s eye as she learned of his death while Sky stood by, unable to do anything at all.

“I should’ve died,” Sky realized. “That would’ve been easier.”

Fi drifted so that she floated above him. “There may still be hope. You do have the capacity to learn to reflect light to create a glowing point. It is what I do when the Master Sword glows. It is simple magic, and magic is a spiritual discipline. It does not require a body.”

“How would that help me?” Sky asked rawly.

“You could construct some sort of communication system.”

So he could, what, create a little glowing ball of light? They would think it a fairy. Sky closed his eyes. Zelda’s eyes stared back.

“You appear to remain distressed.”

“I wonder why.” Sky sat up and swung his legs off of the bed. It didn’t creak under him as he shifted. “If I can’t come back—if everyone will think I’m dead forever, and the only thing I’ll ever be to them again is some glowing ball—then what’s the point? You should’ve let that woman kill me.” Fi was silent. Sky hung his head and clasped his hands together. “Please at least tell me this is what the goddess wanted.”

“Her Grace did not give me any orders. I woke up and saved you of my own accord. Do not blame her for my lack of strength.”

Sky knew what he should say, in this moment. _It’s not your fault, Fi._ But he couldn’t. It wasn’t her fault, except she had been the one to try to save him in the first place. It wasn’t her fault, except she had failed, and now Sky was trapped, a ghost with no way to move on. It wasn’t her fault, except that, thanks to her, Sky would have to watch as Zelda learned of his fate.

The end of a cold arm settled on his back. “I apologize, Master.”

He pulled away and stood. “You should get some rest, Fi. The sooner you can let them know what’s happening, the sooner they can learn to talk to a little ball of light.”

When he looked back, Fi was gone. Sky ran a hand over his face. He took a breath and forced his chest to push up against the weight that now rested on it. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be breathing. It certainly wasn’t air. But he didn’t know how to stop, either. He was a human, not a sword spirit. He wasn’t designed to live like this.

Sky squeezed out of the parted door and made his way down the stairs. He sat on the last step and watched Sana complete a round of hugs. Legend endured it with a miffed look, Wild didn’t seem to know what to think, and Twilight smiled at her reassuringly, despite the fact he was at least ten years her junior. “This is about the most bizarre thing that has ever happened to me,” she said as she stepped back.

“I’ve seen more bizarre, but it is up there,” Time agreed.

Sana shook her head and laughed. The sound grated against Sky’s ears. “My brother may be gone, but I’m glad his soul lives on in all of you. You carry his spirit well.”

Sky rested his forehead against the wall and closed his eyes. The stone should’ve been cool and rough against his bare skin, but it felt like nothing.

“We try,” Twilight said.

“And—and that means, that other Link, the one you called Sky. He was actually carrying the true sword of legend?”

“Yes,” Hyrule said. “Do you want to see it?”

“No, but thank you.” Sana sighed. “I’m sorry that he died. It’s tragic, so far from his home. I would say I wonder what his family is thinking, missing him, but I suppose I know, don’t I?”

Sky didn’t have any family and hadn’t for many years. Who he did have was Zelda. Months ago, he had disappeared into the portal without a chance to say goodbye. At the time, he hadn’t known that he would never return.

The two of them had been planning to spend the rest of their lives together. It turned out there’d been no need to plan, in the end. It had already come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't mean to crush your hopes and dreams there Sky, but... oops. :(
> 
> I'm playing around with the idea of moving updates to Saturdays (not certain yet), so don't be surprised if there's a one day delay next week.
> 
> Finally, good luck to everyone doing Linktober and/or any other -tober!


	5. Bitterness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The warning for chapter four applies to chapter five, too.

“I know none of you use it with two hands, but are you sure that’s right? It’s so big.”

Sky lay in the grass, angled his chin up to the darkening sky, and drummed his fingers against his stomach. A little ways away, the group had settled down to rest after supper.

“I know what you mean,” Wild told Hyrule, having snuck off with him to practice with the Master Sword. “To be honest, I use it one-handed just because of muscle memory, but it has to be right, because—well. Because Sky used it that way.”

“He’d know, wouldn’t he?” Hyrule muttered.

“If anyone knew, it was him. He was the closest to it. To her.”

“Do you think she misses him?”

Sky yawned more from the desire to be able to sleep than any real exhaustion. He brought his hand back to his stomach to drum out the beats of the Ballad of the Goddess.

“Misses?” Wild snorted. “I don’t know if that’s the right word. Who knows if she’s even conscious?”

“Sky said he knew her soul. She must be, right? If she has a soul?”

“But we don’t know what he meant by that.” The grass crunched under Wild’s weight as he collapsed into it. Hyrule followed more slowly. Wild’s voice quieted until it was almost conspiratorial. “You know, my Zelda heard the voice, too.”

Sky turned his head to watch Wild and Hyrule through half-lidded eyes. They sat shoulder to shoulder. Hyrule leaned in like he always did when he learned something particularly interesting. “Really?” he said.

“Yeah. It was how she found out about the Shrine of Resurrection. The sword told her. But the sword only ever spoke to her one time, and now she’s convinced it’s her fault she can’t hear the voice anymore. That her magic’s not strong enough.”

“But that’s not what you think.”

“No. I think the sword’s a tool the goddess uses for her own will. She had the sword speak in that moment because if I died, everything was ruined. But beyond that? There was no need, so there was no voice.”

Hyrule stared down at the hilt in his hand. Fi’s blade lit the grass with a soft glow. “You really believe that?”

“I could be wrong, of course. It’s just what I think.” Wild furrowed his eyebrows and spoke softly. “Sky probably knew more, but I guess now it’s too late to ask him.”

Hyrule nodded and ducked his head so that Sky couldn’t see his expression. “Thanks for helping me,” he said.

“No problem,” Wild said. “Are you okay? I know that’s a bad question right now, but.”

“I’m fine. If I learn to use her I’ll be better. I’m just—I guess…”

Wild bumped their shoulders together. “Hey. You can tell me.”

“I’m afraid she won’t think I’m worthy.”

The words came out in a hurried rush, and when Wild took a moment to respond, the silence they left behind was almost painful. Finally, he just said, “She will.”

“But what if she doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll be here to pick up the slack.” Wild paused and pursed his lips. “And it’ll be her failing, not yours, if she doesn’t deem you worthy.”

Sky closed his eyes. Wild had never told him that his Zelda could hear Fi. He knew he should be curious, surprised, or maybe hopeful that Fi would be awake for others in the future. He knew he should want to correct Wild’s assumption that Fi was just some automaton of the goddess’s will. But all of it seemed dull and unimportant against the fact that he couldn’t, even if he wanted to, and would never be able to again.

“It’s getting dark,” Wild said. “We should make our way back before Wolfie thinks he has to come find us again.”

Metal slid over metal as Hyrule sheathed Fi. “That would be bad.” With a sigh, Sky sat up and mentally prepared himself for another lonely night by the fire, watching the others sigh and twitch and grimace in their sleep.

His gaze settled on the scabbard in Hyrule’s hands. A second string, not connected to his own waist, extended from the hilt back towards camp. Frowning, Sky stood and walked ahead to find Fi floating over the camp, casting her soft glow on the half-asleep faces below her.

“Master Link,” she said. Like always, Sky couldn’t tell how she was feeling, if she felt anything at all, by her tone. He only hoped she wasn’t mad at him. He wouldn’t take back his words, but he hadn’t meant to hurt her in saying them.

“What are you doing?” he asked and winced when it came out a touch too accusatory, not quite able to hide the underlying thought. _Why aren’t you resting so you have a chance to fix this?_

Fi turned to face him. “I am observing the others with the spirit of the hero. Though their stories are as of yet unknown to me, I find that I know their essences. It is branded on their souls.”

“Uh, okay.” Sky did not have enough energy to figure out what she meant by that. “Did you want to talk to me or are you content just… observing them?”

“I must speak with you. You should begin learning how to cast light.”

Sky bit his cheek. He took a few steps forward to meet Fi by the still smoldering pile of wood that had made the fire. “Why? They’re not going to get that it’s me, so there’s not really a point.”

Fi tilted her head. “Would it not be of benefit for you to be able to communicate?”

Sky didn’t have a good way to explain the dread he felt when he thought of learning the spell and failing to show them who he was. They would be one step closer to learning that he was still there, yes, but they would still grieve him. The light wouldn’t be Sky to them. It would be a strange companion they wouldn’t like or trust. He couldn’t stand that, but he also didn’t know how to tell Fi, logical as she was. So he just said, “It’s not really communication, is it? Not in the way that counts.”

That was true enough.

“If you are not willing to learn that,” Fi said immediately, floating closer, “you should learn to live as a spirit, as I do. As of now, you still perceive yourself to have a body.”

“What do you mean? I know I don’t have one.”

“Knowledge and perception are two different things. For example, you continue to breathe despite having no lungs.”

“How is that—don’t I need to breathe?”

“No.”

Sky took in a breath, let it out, and didn’t breathe in again. He waited for the air hunger to constrict around his lungs and force them to expand. Fi stared at him, and he stared back, his chest perfectly still and no worse the wear for it. “Oh.”

Fi nodded. “There are other examples. You continue to utilize your imagined vocal cords while speaking. You appear unable to pass through those objects you perceive to be solid or to stop gravity from acting upon you.”

Sky sat down and stared at the smoldering wood. With a sharp jerk, he pulled his sailcloth up and around his arms. Fi lowered herself so that she was at his level. “The physical world is a danger to you as long as you continue to let yourself be manipulated by it,” she said. “The anchor line between you and the Master Sword is long, but it is not infinite. If you cannot walk through a closed door, you will be disconnected, and you will die.”

A vague creeping sensation washed over Sky’s shoulders. He pulled his legs up, wrapped his arms around them, and rested his chin on his knees. “I’m already dead,” he said, feeling sick to his stomach. “What does it matter if that happens?”

“You are not dead. Your soul lives on, and that is what living is. Master Link.” Fi leaned forward, her gaze intent. “You love life. You love it more than anyone I have met. You taught me it was valuable. You cannot give up on it.”

“That’s the thing. Maybe this isn’t death. But it’s not life, either.”

Fi closed her eyes and drifted backwards. Her head bowed. “I see. I understand now that—”

“Are you going to stop me?”

Hyrule’s angry words made Sky flinch. He peered past Fi to see him and Time sitting on a stone together, Hyrule hanging onto Fi’s scabbard with a tight grip.

Time spread his arms, pleading innocence. “No. It’s your decision. I just want you to know that it’s dangerous to wield that blade. You must be prepared for whatever responsibility comes with it.”

Fi turned to face the conversation.

Hyrule set his jaw. “I know. I am.”

“Are you?” Time asked.

“I have to be,” Hyrule said. His shoulders loosened until his whole spine bowed. “If I can’t handle it, then what does that make me? I’ll have failed where the rest of you succeeded.”

“You forget the smith hasn’t wielded it, either, and he doesn’t want to. I would say for good reason.”

“That’s different.” Hyrule looked away, his gaze sweeping over Sky without an ounce of recognition before settling on the ground. “Smithy’s too small. It’s not like he has a choice, anyway,” he said. “Besides, it’s not about me or my worth. It’s about Sky. About honoring him.”

Sky sighed.

“Are you sure?” Time said. “There are a lot of ways you could honor him. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you disparage yourself if you think there’s something you should’ve done on your journeys that you didn’t.”

Hyrule didn’t answer.

Time sighed and put his hand on Hyrule’s back. “Just remember that sword isn’t what makes you worthy. If it were, I wouldn’t want anything to do with any of this. No. It’s something else, something bigger than that, and you have it just as much as the rest of us.”

“What is it, then?” Hyrule gave Time a skeptical look. “The name Link?”

Time pushed Hyrule’s back so that he rocked forwards. “If it were that, there would be a lot more people with us.” When Hyrule rolled his eyes and looked away, Time shook his head. “You should get some rest.”

“Thanks, Old Man,” Hyrule muttered. He slung the sword over his back and stood. As he made his way past, Sky frowned at him. “I wish you could talk some sense into his head,” he told Fi. “He might actually listen to it from you.”

She didn’t respond.

Sky looked at her. She wasn’t looking at him or even at Hyrule. Her gaze was fixed on Time.

“Fi?”

“Yes, Master?” Fi said, and Sky couldn’t help but shiver. He had noticed she was calling him Master again, but it hadn’t bothered him until now.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. I am simply processing the information that you will dislike me in the future.”

“You mean the old man?”

“The one whom you call the old man, yes.”

Sky frowned at Time. He hated how Time talked about Fi, but he had gotten used to it. “Don’t worry about him. He just... had some bad experiences when he was younger.” What those bad experiences had been, Sky didn’t know. Time was the worst among them when it came to being mysterious about his past.

“The spirit of the hero is pure,” Fi said steadily, as if Sky hadn’t spoken. “The Hero would not dislike anyone without cause. If he does not want an association with me, it is I who must’ve failed.”

“Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Sky said.

“Even if what you say is true, I have still failed.” Fi turned and bowed her head to Sky. “I have failed you already.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are right that I have made a mistake. I kept you from death, but I did not keep you in life. Hylians are not made to live as ghosts, and I should not have forced you to do so. I am sorry, Master.”

“I don’t—” Sky choked on his words, just as he had the day before. _I don’t blame you_ rested on his tongue, but it wasn’t true. Sky didn’t like being angry. But when Fi abandoned him to sleep in the sword and only came back to fail to save him, not even at the goddess’s orders, he was angry. He knew Fi tried her best. He knew she had no obligation to stay with him. He knew his anger wasn’t logical, and it was his problem to deal with. But Fi was right that he had said all those things, and now he couldn’t even deny the conclusion she had drawn.

It was true. She had failed, and Sky was angry at her for it.

“I’m sorry,” he said instead, because he was.

Fi smiled sadly. “I also thought I had failed when I left you alone by going to sleep in the sword. I could sense that you missed me. Now I understand that I shouldn’t have woken up at all. I should’ve trusted Her Grace to know what was right.”

“Fi…”

“I will go to sleep again. If you wish to speak to me, simply call me, but otherwise I will bother you no longer.”

Sky jumped up. “Fi!”

She disappeared.

His legs folded under him. He buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry.” If he had just been able to say _I don’t blame you…._ But then, he had always been bad at lying.

Time, who was on watch, still sat on the stone watching the sleeping bodies around him. “One,” he muttered under his breath. Sky looked up to see Time’s gaze resting off to the side on Warriors. As Sky watched, his gaze moved around the circle. “Two, three, four.”

“Oh, no,” Sky breathed.

“Five, six, seven… seven.”

Sky got to his feet. He made his way around the dead fire and sat next to Time. “One, two, three,” Time began. Sky hesitated for a long moment before shifting close enough to lean against him. “Four, five, six, seven…” he said.

Sky curled an arm through the space between Time’s side and forearm. “Eight. I’m here. I’m sorry. _Eight._ ”

“One,” Time said, and Sky sighed. If Fi was a failure, so was he. If only he had been a little stronger, he could’ve resisted long enough for Hyrule and Fi to save the day, but he hadn’t. Now he was stuck, left alone in this space between life and death, watching others mourn for him. And there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Time counted, over and over again, and Sky turned his face into Time’s arm, muttering _eight_ after every _seven._

* * *

The next morning, the Links met a traveler on the road.

Or, rather, Sky met a traveler while the others continued on, oblivious. With some effort, Sky spotted the string connected to the man’s waist. It stretched back the way he had come, on and on, and Sky couldn’t see its end.

The man, in light leather armor and with no visible weapons, smiled and gestured to Fi strapped to Hyrule’s back, where Sky’s string led. “Looks like we’re in the same situation.”

Sky kept his distance, stopping in the middle of the road. “What happened to you?”

“Asking a stranger about his death is a little personal, don’t you think?” the man said.

Heat flushed up Sky’s neck. “Sorry.”

The man stepped up to Sky and offered his hand. Sky took it, and the man leaned in to grip his elbow for a moment. The touch was like lightning, more real than anything Sky had touched in the last few days except Fi. “No problem,” he said. “You fresh ghosts have no way to know the etiquette.”

“How can you tell—”

“That you’re fresh? You all have a look about you.”

“Really?”

The man’s eyes crinkled. “Pretty much. But your anchor line is also new. Not so flexible. When you’ve been dead for years like me, you can go so far from your anchor.” He gestured down the road. “That’s why I’m traveling. I’m trying to get home to see my daughter. I think my anchor line’s finally flexible enough to make it.” He looked into the distance, and his head bobbed. “She should be grown by now.”

Sky gave the man a closer look. A relaxed curve shaped his face as he thought about his daughter. “I hope you find her.”

“Yeah,” the man said, wistful. “The name’s Medus. What’s yours?”

“Sky.”

“Nice to meet you, Sky. You know, it is personal to ask a ghost how they died, but I’ll tell you anyway.” He gestured to himself. “This is what happens when you walk into Castle Valley. The fog takes you in a second.” He snapped his fingers. “You never even get a chance to resist.”

Sky couldn’t help but glance at the group, still moving ahead on the road. Medus watched him closely. “That’s what I thought. You know, there’s a reason the road isn’t so great anymore. The people who go don’t come back.”

“They have fairy armor,” Sky said.

Medus laughed. When Sky startled, Medus waved him off. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh at something so serious. It’s just that, I’m sorry to say, they’ve been ripped off.”

“What?”

“I found fairy armor before I went, too. You might be able to tell it didn’t work out so well.”

“Did you take it off?” Sky asked, alarmed. He imagined each of the Links falling, one by one, consigned to the same fate he was.

“No. I never got a chance to! My body was taken away from me the moment I breathed in.” Medus leaned in. “Between you and me, kid, those fairies are liars. They claim to have this great spiritual connection with the spirit plane. They even claim to be able to see us! Ha. But it’s not true. I’ve walked in front of them as a ghost, and they were just as oblivious as the Hylians.”

“Is there any way to warn them?”

Medus put a hand on Sky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help.”

Fear got caught in Sky’s throat, along with the absolute, terrible certainty that he was helpless. He would do whatever he could to keep his friends safe, but what was he supposed to do when _whatever he could_ was _nothing_? He stared at the retreating group.

His stomach twinged. He looked down to see his string—anchor line?—taut and thin. Pressure pulled against his side, tugging him after the others. “I have to go,” he said. “I’m sorry. My line—”

Medus’s hand tightened, his thumb pressing against Sky’s collarbone. “You can stay a little longer.”

“No, I really have—”

The air in front of them turned dark. A woman emerged out of the formless shape and gave her head a sharp shake. Her long braid went flying, and Sky’s breath caught.

“You’re not going anywhere this time, upstart!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s technically Saturday in my timezone, so whatever.
> 
> The chapter title is vaguely taken from The Oh Hellos's recent song "Cold", specifically the lines, "When the bitter creeps in / To bite you whole / A spectre unreflected, oh / It keeps you cold". All their new music, both recent and upcoming, is spoiling me.
> 
> Chapters four and five have been very dialogue-heavy, so next week… action! And as always, thoughts welcome.


	6. Medus and Denta

Sky’s killer stood in front of him.

He took a step back, directly into Medus’s chest. “You should—”

Medus’s free hand locked down on his wrists, holding them together and twisting. Sky gasped and bit his tongue. The woman laughed. “Don’t trust everyone you meet on the road, kid, especially around here.” She stalked forward so that she could jab her finger into Sky’s chest. “Serves you right for the trick you and your sword friend pulled earlier.”

Medus’s grip was iron, and every step the group took farther away, Sky’s anchor line pulled tighter. The pain was familiar. Panic clawed at his chest.

“Done with your revenge fantasy yet, Denta?” Medus said, adjusting his hands. Sky swallowed and purposefully relaxed in his grip.

“Hey, what else are we going to do until he’s dead? Besides, I haven’t had this much excitement in years.”

“I’ll give you that. Lord Ganon hasn’t been agitated like this since before he took over.”

Denta scoffed. “And he told us the Master Sword was destroyed. Isn’t that man silly? I get that he thought there wouldn’t be another wielder, but you’d think he’d be better off if he didn’t keep so many secrets.”

Sky brought his hands up, around, and _down_ over the weak spot in Medus’s grip. Medus’s hand lost purchase, and with a wrench, Sky staggered away. Without a weapon, his only resort was to punch Denta in the face.

His fist went right through her. In his shock, Sky couldn’t dodge the hand that came up to grab his arm, completely solid. Denta pulled her head out of Sky’s hand and laughed in his face. “He still thinks he’s human!”

Medus grabbed Sky’s shoulders and pushed him to his knees. Pain from Sky’s stomach jolted up and through his head. “Makes our job all the easier, though, you’ve got to admit,” he said.

“True,” Denta agreed. “Though if he’s so easy to kill, I’ve got to wonder why we’re bothering to pick him off first before the rest of them.”

She held Sky’s wrists together in front of him. Sky might’ve been able to break the hold, but he would never be able to escape with Medus’s hands on his shoulders and Denta’s apparent ability to turn tangible and intangible at will. Denta grinned and leaned forward. “Are you feeling it yet? The pull between you and your anchor as you grow separated? Is it painful?”

It was. Shivers of pain streaked out from his abdomen. They ran up his limbs and neck and made him shake.

“What are you, a sadist?” Medus said mildly.

Denta sighed. “I’ll be nicer just for you, Medus.” She leaned closer and tilted her neck so that her mouth was over Sky’s ear. “Shhh. Don’t worry, little wielder. It’ll be over soon.”

Sky screamed.

It was a call for help. He knew the group was ahead on the road and none the wiser about him. He knew Fi was asleep and wouldn’t hear his call.

He screamed anyway.

Denta shifted so that she held both of Sky’s arms with one of hers and shoved her free hand into Sky’s mouth. He bit down on it. His teeth went straight through. When he opened his mouth to scream again, her hand rematerialized. Sky gagged.

“This job may be simple, but it sure is annoying,” Denta said.

The pain spread. Fire rushed up his spine and bloomed over his shoulder blades. _I am going to die,_ he realized. It terrified him. It was not like a few days before in the temple. Then, there had been the hope, at least, that Hyrule and Fi would save him. Now he was alone.

Sky slumped and fell forwards. He stared down at the utterly undisturbed ground as the pain curled over his shoulders. “Not long now,” Medus said, as if from very far away.

_Please, Hylia, let me live._

Sky closed his eyes. He could feel Denta’s solid skin against his. She was a ghost, just like Sky, but he hadn’t been able to hurt her. So why could she hurt him?

Knowledge was different from perception, Fi had said. Sky knew he didn’t have a body, but he didn’t believe it at the core of his being. His mind had refused to accept it.

Now, as the pain eclipsed any other sensation Sky thought his body felt, he realized with as much clarity as he had ever realized anything.

_This is an illusion._

The solidity of Denta and Medus’s holds vanished. His anchor line snapped back like a rubber band, and he went tumbling through the air and the ground. In moments, the pain receded. His movement slowed.

For a few agonizing seconds, Sky hung in the air and rotated around and around. He looked up at the sky, and his body shook.

He dropped to the ground—solid—and scrambled to his feet. A hill blocked his view of where he had just been. Without waiting another moment, he turned around and stalked forward until he was back among the group.

He turned on his heel and walked backwards, eyes set to find Medus and Denta when they appeared over the slope, come to kill him again. Unless he could regain the form he had managed in those precious seconds, he would be at their mercy.

A minute passed, and then another and another. Medus and Denta made no reappearance.

Sky let the tension drop from his shoulders. He was safe, or at least as safe as he could hope to be. He turned to walk forwards and slowly weaved between his friends, unsure what to do.

His phantom heart pounded against his ribcage. His back trembled with residual strain. He felt simultaneously like he could run forever and that he was about to collapse.

He really, really needed to sit down.

The group moved on, though, and Sky couldn’t be left behind again.

“Can we stop and rest? Please?” he asked them, but of course they didn’t hear him. He linked his fingers together to still his shaking hands. “ _Please?_ I just need to rest. I’m sorry. I just need to….”

Sky staggered to Epona’s side. Her heavy presence usually intimidated him, but now it was reassuring as he wrapped his arms around her neck and leaned into her. Twilight held her reins and led her along step by step, so Sky followed.

“Sorry I’m using you as a prop,” he said into her neck. “When I come back, I’ll feed you all the apples, I promise.”

He breathed in and out and prayed, _Goddess Hylia, you are my shelter in the storm. Walk with me and grant me strength._

They walked for another hour.

Finally, Twilight announced that Epona needed rest, his go-to excuse when he wanted to convince the group to take a break without telling them they needed it. Sky didn’t mind. He practically collapsed onto the ground and let his limbs sprawl out in all directions.

In the early days of his journey, after an encounter with Ghirahim, he’d staggered out of the battle with blood gushing down his sword arm. He’d knocked back a potion and sat down on the ground. When Fi had appeared, he had told her, “I’m never going to make it in time. I’m always going to be too late.”

Fi had responded by telling him how to properly bandage his arm, and he had snapped.

He had told her to go away, and she did. He had closed his eyes and gone through every memory of Zelda he could muster, but even with her face playing over the backs of his eyelids, he had never felt so alone.

Now, lying on the ground surrounded by eight of his friends, that feeling returned. He was absolutely, utterly alone.

With Medus and Denta holding him down, he hadn’t wanted to die. Now that he was here, he didn’t know what to do with the life he’d escaped with.

He replayed the encounter in his head. The way it had gone from Medus offering him advice to revealing it was just a ruse to get Sky separated from the group. The way Denta had appeared and teased him, calling him easy to kill, wondering why—

—wondering why they bothered to pick him off first before they came for the rest of the group.

Sky jerked to a sitting position. He needed to do something. But, but—

He couldn’t do anything, just like he couldn’t do anything about everything else. He looked at Hyrule, sitting alone while Legend snuck glances at him, and at Wild, feeding Epona as Twilight looked on, bemused, and at Wind tugging on Warriors’s scarf, and at Time and Four in quiet discussion. He knew he had to do something, but his sheer inability rose up like a wave in front of him, drowning him.

Except that he had escaped.

He had escaped Medus and Denta’s clutches with luck and Fi’s words on his side. Maybe he could do this, too. Maybe he couldn’t. But he had to try.

Sky clambered to his feet and made his way over to Hyrule. He brushed his fingers over Fi’s hilt. “Please, wake up.”

She whirled to life in front of him without a second of hesitation. “Master Link.”

“I need your help,” Sky said. He couldn’t meet Fi’s eyes.

Fi leaned forward. “What’s happened?”

“That woman in the fairy temple. Her name is Denta, and she’s back.”

“How do you know?”

Sky pressed his hands together. “She and her friend tried to kill me by pulling me away from the Master Sword.” Out of his periphery, he could see Fi’s eyes narrow. “It’s fine. I got away. The thing is, they’re planning to come back for the group.”

“Are you all right?”

Sky took a few steps back and dropped to the ground. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your body language suggests anxiety. Your voice is trembling 62% more than usual.”

Sky huffed. “The fact that you can tell so specifically is disturbing.”

“I asked you a question, Master.”

“I’m fine.”

Fi nodded, but she didn’t change the topic to the important part, the part where she helped Sky warn them. “How may I support you emotionally?”

“It’s really fine, Fi. I—I don’t need—”

“I’ve observed that you often derive comfort from physical contact. Would you like a hug?”

Sky laughed even as his eyes burned. “Sure. Why not?”

With slow, methodical movements, Fi laid her arms on Sky’s before wrapping them around his back. She leaned forward to rest her chin on his shoulder. He laughed again and reciprocated, pulling her closer. _I’m sorry_ burned on his tongue, but he knew it would be just another empty platitude. “Thank you,” he said instead. “But really, I need to warn them.”

Fi pulled back. “Would you like to learn the light spell?”

“Yes,” Sky said. “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday. But you’re right that I need it to communicate.” He looked back at Legend and Hyrule. It would be painful, if they didn’t realize it was him, but it wasn’t about Sky’s feelings. He could help them, and so he must.

“Do not apologize. I am glad.”

* * *

Several hours later, Sky held a little glowing ball of light in his hands. “Oh, goddess,” he breathed. “Goddess.”

“Good,” Fi said. “You learn quickly.”

Wild paused where he was pouring water into the cooking pot. He looked straight at Sky’s glowing hands, and Sky’s heart skipped a beat. “Uh, is anyone else seeing this?”

_Yes!_

Four leaned over to get a clearer view around Wild. “That’s not… a fairy, is it?”

“It’s not,” Hyrule and Time said at the same time. Hyrule laughed awkwardly, and Time cleared his throat. “No one get close to it,” he said. “We don’t know what it is or what it’s doing here.”

A wave of dizziness washed over Sky. His hands trembled and came apart. The light faded away, and for a moment, so did his hearing, replaced by a high-pitched ringing.

When it came back, Fi smiled at him. “The spell requires spiritual energy. As you practice, you will become more efficient, and you will be able to cast it for longer. Now it is time to take a break.”

“Maybe it’s a weird firefly?” Wind asked as the group broke into heated discussion. Sky leaned back on his hands, his heart sinking.

“I only did it for such a short time, but it took so much out of me.”

“That is natural. Even I cannot cast the spell right now. My energy is too depleted.”

“How am I supposed to warn them? I have to figure out a way,” Sky said.

“First, you should take a break.” Fi tilted her head. “You will not be productive exhausted.”

A break was tempting with the way Sky’s head spun, but he couldn’t take it. The reaction to the light had been just as expected—confusion, no recognition—and the disappointment of it weighed on him.

Besides, now that he might be useful again, he couldn’t forget that every moment wasted was one moment closer to the fruition of Medus and Denta’s plan, whatever it was. If Sky couldn’t figure this out, and someone got hurt—or even killed—it would be his fault.

“Let’s keep going,” he decided.

Fi opened her mouth, but before she could speak, she looked up sharply. Sky followed her gaze to see people in long cloaks floating up and over the ridge. Their faces were shadowed, but what little Sky could see of them looked inhuman. The others didn’t notice, even as the creatures began to circle them.

Sky clenched his hands. Too late. “What are they?”

“Wizzrobes. I do not have much data on them, but—”

Blades of light shot out of their hands, crisscrossing the clearing. Shouts erupted from the camp. Sky and the rest of the group ducked, and one blade cut a swath through Epona’s tail, causing her to cry out and flee over a hill.

“ _That_ is their main attack,” Fi finished.

“Where did that come from?” Wind yelped, but no one knew.

“Circle up,” Warriors commanded as more wizzrobes appeared over the ridge. By the way the others reacted, they must’ve been visible. These ones held staffs, and under their hoods, they didn’t have faces. They had skulls.

“The Hero of Hyrule wields me,” Fi said. Indeed, Hyrule clutched the sword in one hand, his shield in the other. “The wizzrobes’ anchors are in the back of their skulls. I will guide him to them.” She disappeared into the sword.

Sky was left alone and useless.

The ghost wizzrobes attacked again. As one, the Links ducked. The physical wizzrobes followed up by teleporting in and attacking with their staffs. The hastily formed circle quickly broke apart as they met the new threat.

Sky made his way to his feet, despite his headache and lingering dizziness, and moved through the battlefield, utterly ignored. He knew the ghost wizzrobes could see him, but they didn’t seem to care about him. Their magic wouldn’t hurt him, and apparently, he wasn’t their target anyway.

Trying to keep out of the way as much as possible, Sky stuck to Hyrule’s side. Hyrule took out one of the physical wizzrobe’s spines, and it spilled to the ground. Its skull rolled out of the hood. Hyrule paused and looked at Fi. “Guiding me?” he asked her.

“That’s the other wielder!”

Sky whirled to see Denta standing at the top of a hill, looking down at Hyrule disdainfully. Medus stood next to her. “That kid? Strange.”

Denta spotted Sky and sneered. She stalked down the hill. “I’ll take care of him just like I took care of you.”

Sky stepped between her and Hyrule, and she walked right through him—literally. By the time he turned, Denta’s hand was embedded in Hyrule’s stomach.

Hyrule’s expression changed. His hands wavered where he held them up, ready to bring Fi down over the wizzrobe’s skull.

Denta jerked her arm, and Hyrule cried out. Fi and his shield fell out of his hands.

“You can’t do this!” Sky cried, rushing forward. He tried to grab her arm and pull it away from Hyrule. He tried to punch her. His attacks went straight through.

Hyrule fell to the ground, and Denta lowered herself with him. She peered up at Sky and rolled her eyes. “Keep trying, kid. It won’t work.”

Wind dropped down next to Hyrule. He shook Hyrule’s shoulder. “Traveler! What’s wrong?”

“It’s like… Sky…” Hyrule said.

Sky scrambled away. He pressed his hand against Fi’s hilt where she lay on the ground. “Fi, I need you.”

Her voice resounded through his head. “Find someone to wield me. The Master Sword can destroy anchor lines, but only if it is wielded!”

Sky looked at Hyrule, who clutched at his stomach with his eyes screwed shut. Wind stood over him and defended him from the wizzrobes’ attacks.

Sky thrust his hands onto Fi’s blade and made them glow. In the darkening evening, it almost looked like she was glowing herself.

Wind didn’t see it. No one did.

Sky grit his teeth. He closed his eyes and pressed as much energy as he could into his hands. Light seared his eyelids, turning their backs red.

Wind scrambled to pick the sword up. Sky looked up to see him holding her with two hands. He grit his teeth and swung her straight into Denta’s anchor line.

The Master Sword glowed. The anchor line lit up with its energy, cracks of darkness marring the light. It shattered.

Denta screamed and vanished into thin air.

Sky collapsed into the dirt. He lay on his side, face to face with Hyrule. As Wind stabbed the stone through the skull of the wizzrobe—“those black stones are in their skulls!” he cried—Sky reached out and touched Hyrule’s shoulder. “Open your eyes,” he begged. “Please.”

Hyrule’s eyes, glassy and unfocused, slid open. For a long moment, he stared straight at Sky’s face. His hand reached up and touched Sky’s own.

Sky’s breath caught. “Can you—”

“Traveler!” Wind grabbed Hyrule’s shoulders and hauled him into his lap. Sky’s hand fell to the ground. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Hyrule said, focusing on Wind.

Just Sky’s imagination, then. He couldn’t bring himself to be disappointed as Wind cried out in relief and hugged Hyrule close. Instead, he turned his head back towards the edge of the battle, but as the rest of the Links took out the remaining wizzrobes, Medus was nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Round of applause for Sky, the literal ghost, finally finding his agency! It only took a second near-death experience... hm. We'll still call it a win.


	7. To Be Enough

Sky sat with his legs tucked under him and fought not to fall over. The exhaustion that tugged at him wasn’t familiar. Neither like not getting enough sleep nor a purely physical tiredness, he didn’t know what to do with it other than push through.

“Your spiritual energy is depleted,” Fi explained from where she floated next to Sky. “Without access to magic potions, there is no way to accelerate the recovery process. It will replenish itself with time.”

Sky groaned. “A magic potion? Is this what the traveler feels like when he uses too much magic?”

“Most likely, as depletion of spiritual energy is a consequence of magic.”

“When I figure out how to communicate with them, remind me to tell him to be more careful with his magic use.”

“Yes, Master.”

Sky had situated himself in the makeshift sickbay corner of camp. Twilight bit back a hiss as Four tended to a nasty cut in his arm, courtesy of the magical attacks of the wizzrobes. “Sorry,” Four said. “I just wish we had fairies around. Potions can only do so much.”

“We haven’t seen fairies at all since we got here,” Wind piped up. He sat against a stone next to where Hyrule lay sleeping. “Do you think that’s weird?”

Four shrugged. “What’s weird was that abandoned temple.”

“Fairies are more or less common in each of our worlds, but monsters infected that place,” Twilight said quietly. “It wasn’t abandoned by will. Something drove them out.”

Four leaned back from Twilight, wiping his hands. “It was probably Ganon, but based on what Sana said about the fairy armor, the royal family didn’t exactly like them, either.”

“But why not?” Wind asked. “Fairies are awesome.”

“Sana said the royal family didn’t like their armor.” Four put his hand in his bag where he had stored the left over metal circlets. “The fairy armor will block the effects of one of Ganon’s powers, but it existed before he came around, and there must’ve been a reason for that. This is just speculation, but maybe the armor also blocked some of the royal family’s powers.”

Wind blinked. “Huh. That’s really smart, Smithy!”

As Four waved the compliment off, Sky looked at Fi. “You know, Medus told me that the fairy armor doesn’t work.”

Fi shook her head. “Medus is a servant of Demise’s hatred. He lies. I can sense the magic of the circlets, and they are powerful. They block spirit manipulation.”

Sky breathed out. “Okay. Okay, that’s good.”

“In fact, if the Hero of the Four Sword is correct, the royal family must have unlocked the spirit powers that lay dormant in those with the blood of the goddess.”

“The Hero of—you mean the smith?”

“Yes.”

“Do we all have titles like that?”

“Yes.”

Sky leaned forward despite himself. “What’s mine?”

“You are the Hero of the Sky,” Fi said.

Sky twitched. “Boring.”

“I do not find it boring.”

“It is!” Sky insisted. “What did you call the traveler? The Hero of Hyrule? The hero of all of Hyrule, he is! That’s an amazing title. Mine is just _another_ play on Skyloft.”

Fi paused. She drifted around Sky’s shoulder so that she could look him in the eye. “I apologize, Master.”

Her voice came out a touch too genuine for Sky to think she was playing along. “Hey, no,” he said. “You know I’m just joking, right? I don’t really care.”

Fi straightened. “I see.” Her eyes softened around the edges. “I am glad that you are feeling better.”

Sky took a moment to glance at Hyrule. Face slack in sleep and arm folded over his stomach as it moved up and down with his breath, he looked… peaceful. “Yeah, well. I guess I helped save the traveler’s life today, didn’t I? I kept him from dying like I did.” He looked back at Fi. “And I’m not arrogant enough to claim praise for it. If you or the sailor hadn’t been there, it wouldn’t have worked. If I had listened to you earlier, maybe he and the ranch hand wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all. But I realized…” He smiled. “Fi, you never disobeyed the goddess’s orders at all. I don’t like being in this state, but I can be useful in it. She probably planned it this way, and if this is the way she wanted it, I know there’s a greater purpose behind it.”

“Are you still upset that I couldn’t save you in time?”

Sky ducked his head. “Yes. But I know you did your best, and I—” He took a breath. “I don’t blame you. And even if I did, you shouldn’t take my feelings as an answer to whether you should’ve done what you did. It wasn’t right for me to take my frustration out on you, and I’m sorry.”

“I have discovered recently some of the difficulty humans must have with emotions.”

“Oh?”

Fi nodded. “I have never told you that I did not choose to go to sleep within the sword.”

“What?” Sky asked, as something dark pulled tight in his chest.

“It was an order from Her Grace that I go to sleep forever. It could not have been her plan for me to save you. I defied Her Grace’s orders to do so by waking up.”

“Did you—” Sky swallowed. He ignored the dizziness when he leaned forward. “Did you want to go to sleep?”

“If I had a choice, I would stay awake for as long as I could.”

Sky breathed in sharply. “All this time—” All this time he had believed Fi chose to go to sleep. He had believed she didn’t see any purpose to their relationship beyond her duty. He hadn’t known…. “How do you know she wants you to? Did she tell you?”

“Not in words.” Fi looked up at the just-emerging stars. “She has not spoken to me directly since she created me. However, I cannot ignore the exhaustion. My energy does not replenish itself as quickly as it used to. What can it be, except an order from Her Grace?”

Fi had been created with the sole purpose of serving the goddess. If she thought it was an order from her, it was. But Sky couldn’t help himself. “Why don’t you fight back?” he said. “If you want to stay awake, why don’t you try?”

“Would you have me defy an order from Her Grace?” Fi said, voice heated.

_Blasphemy._ Sky shrunk back. “No, I wouldn’t.” The goddess knew what was right. She could see the bigger picture that Sky couldn’t. He had to remind himself of that.

“I know you wouldn’t, Master,” Fi said. “As you said, emotions are not always logical.”

“Yeah….” Sky looked down and ran his fingers over the ground. Maybe it had been the goddess’s orders for Fi to go to sleep originally, but he couldn’t believe that Fi had done anything wrong by waking up to save him. It had saved Hyrule’s life, and wasn’t that enough? It must’ve been the goddess’s will, but then why couldn’t Fi see that?

“Master?”

Sky bit the inside of his cheek and looked up. “Can I ask, why are you calling me Master again? I thought we dissolved that relationship.”

“At the time, I thought that you would never wield me again. With the portals, I now understand that that relationship was prematurely ended.”

Fi had not wanted to go to sleep. She had wanted to stay. Whether that was because of him or just life itself, Sky didn’t know, but what he did know was that Fi was not simply a servant, no matter what she or anyone else thought. He shook his head. “No. We dissolved it. That’s it.” He pointed at her. “You’re a person. You have autonomy. If you want to be around me, that’s great, but don’t do it as my servant. Do it as my friend.”

Fi tilted her head, and she didn’t speak. Sky wondered if she would refuse outright or maybe just go along with him because she thought she had to, but when she smiled, it was genuine. “Thank you, Link.”

Sky smiled.

“I must rectify my opposition to Her Grace’s orders, but I will not abandon my friend,” Fi said. “I will stay with you until you can communicate with the others. And then I must go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” Sky sighed. Fi was right. She couldn’t ignore the goddess. “Okay.”

“I must rest now. Severing an anchor line takes much more energy than destroying an anchor, and it tired me.”

“Come see me tomorrow,” Sky said.

“I will.”

Fi disappeared into the Master Sword.

Sky looked at the others. Wind stared at Hyrule’s still sleeping form while Twilight sat stiffly with a fresh set of clothes on. Wild came over and pulled Four away to search for his ladle because it had been lost in the chaos of the battle.

“Why me specifically?” Four asked as he got to his feet.

“You’re so low to the ground. You should be able to see it more easily than the rest of us,” Wild said.

Four rolled his eyes.

“You know,” Twilight said, “if you want to know how the traveler and I are doing, you can just ask me.”

Wild tilted his head and gave Twilight an innocent smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let’s just go,” Four said.

As Wild lead Four to the destroyed fire, Wind twisted to look at Twilight. In a stage whisper, he said, “Do you think the traveler is going to be okay?”

Twilight looked at Hyrule. “He’s still alive, and he isn’t in pain anymore. From what he said, that’s not how it happened to Sky, so… yes, I hope so.”

“He’s going to be just fine,” Sky said. Denta had stopped pulling on his soul, so he would be okay. Sky had to believe it.

“That’s not really what I meant,” Wind said.

Twilight shifted so that he could look at Wind fully. “No? What did you mean?”

“He saw Sky die,” Wind said, sharply. “And then he almost died himself in the same way. I just—I don’t think I would be okay, after that.”

Sky looked at Hyrule and curled his hands into fists.

Twilight sighed. “He probably won’t be. I don’t think anyone would. But we’re here. He won’t have to go through it alone.”

With a jerk, Wind scrambled over to Twilight. He ducked under Twilight’s good arm and pressed into his side. After a moment, Twilight lifted his arm up to rest it on Wind’s shoulders and hold him close. “I miss Sky,” Wind said, his voice breaking.

Twilight’s grip tightened. “Me, too.”

“And—and it’s so weird to think that none of us are invincible, right? I mean, I _know_ that, of course I do, and I know that all of us are going to die someday, but—but—”

“But none of us expected it to be now,” Twilight said. “There’s a difference between knowing something could happen and having it actually happen.”

_It didn’t happen,_ Sky wanted to protest, but of course he couldn’t. From their perspective, it had. “I’m going to find a way to let you know I’m here,” he said instead.

“I’m not glad the traveler had to be there,” Wind said, “but I am glad someone was with Sky. I hope he wasn’t scared.”

“I’m sure he was very brave.”

“Oh, _no._ ”

Wild’s heartbroken voice made Sky flinch. He turned his head to see Wild clutching two pieces of wood in his hands, staring down at them as if his paraglider had just been broken.

“What’s wrong?” Time asked, where he sat with Warriors. Twilight leaned forward with a wince, his eyes fixed on Wild.

“Look.” Wild held up the wood. The two pieces together made a ladle.

“Do you have anything else that will work?” Time said.

“I do, but that’s not the point.”

“It’s just a spoon, Champion,” Legend said, frowning.

Wild whirled to glare. “It’s not! _Sky_ made it for me.”

“… Oh.”

Sky couldn’t stop staring at the ladle as Twilight clambered to his feet. He stepped in front of Wild and gently took each side of it, pressing the two ragged ends against each other.

They slotted together perfectly. “See? We can fix it.”

Wild sighed. His gaze rested on the ladle, but his attention wasn’t really there. “Right.”

“Do you have something pre-prepared?” Twilight let go. “It’s late, and we’re all tired. It might be best to get to bed sooner rather than later.”

“You’re right.” Wild tucked the two ends of the ladle into his bag, not meeting Twilight’s eyes. “I’ll get something out.”

Wild sat down, and Four came over to stand beside him, nodding at Twilight and giving a pointed look at his wound. Under Four’s sharp gaze, Twilight made his way to sit again by Wind, who had his knees pulled up against his chest, eyes wide.

Wind ducked his head down and rubbed at his eyes. Twilight put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe none of us are okay,” he said, sounding exhausted.

Despair pulled at Sky’s shoulders. He didn’t want to see his friends like this, especially not because of him. If he had only died, he wouldn’t have to—

_No._ He was here for a reason. Sky watched Hyrule’s chest move up and down. He lay down next to him and pressed a hand onto his arm.

Maybe Fi would gain the energy to restore Sky to his body before the next portal came. Maybe Sky would be able to fix Wild’s ladle, someday. But it was a slim possibility. His body would likely rot in the earth, and there was nothing Sky could do about it.

Hyrule’s face scrunched in his sleep. He murmured something indecipherable under his breath.

“I’m here,” Sky said. “And I’m going to get you to see it, too.”

That would have to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little over halfway through! And honestly, I’m sooo excited for the second half!
> 
> Sky’s hero title is up for debate, but I used “Hero of the Sky” instead of “Chosen Hero” here because (a) it lines up better with the other titles and (b) you never know what might happen with lore shenanigans to make Chosen Hero not make much sense. Poor Sky, though, he would’ve been happier about Chosen Hero, lol.
> 
> Hyrule will be back in a big way next chapter. He just needs his rest for now.


	8. Hyrule: Liability

Hyrule tipped the wooden bowl back and drained the soup. When he lowered it to his lap, he couldn’t help but let his gaze drift to Wind. As Hyrule watched, Wind glanced up, and they both looked away from each other sharply. Hyrule let his gaze skip over where Legend stood, sneaking glances at him. Legend had been doing that a lot lately, but Hyrule was getting better at ignoring the annoyance it inspired.

He sighed. He knew what he should do. He should thank Wind for saving his life, and he should hand the Master Sword off to someone else. If Hyrule were a good team member, someone focused on the safety of them all over his own problems, he would do it without hesitation.

Unfortunately for the rest of them, Hyrule was not a good team member.

He was selfish, and insecure, and convinced that giving up the Master Sword would prove he was weak. He couldn’t work with a group for the life of him, and when he tried, he messed it up, again and again, and people got hurt.

Or killed.

He brushed a hand over the Master Sword’s scabbard. He had to do this, to prove himself, to make it up to Sky, to fulfill what could only be his destiny because why else would he not have used the sword on his journey? But he wasn’t sure he could.

He glanced one more time at Wind and bit his lip. It wasn’t much, but he could meet at least one obligation. Ignoring Legend’s gaze, he got to his feet and made his way to sit by Wind’s side.

Hyrule smiled as Wind drained his soup as quickly as possible. “What’s up, Traveler?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Thank you,” Hyrule said, “for saving my life.”

Wind shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. It was mostly the Master Sword. It guided me! It was pulling at my hands and told me where to go.”

Sky’s twisted face flashed in Hyrule’s mind. “Me, too. But you succeeded where I failed.”

Wind shook his head. “Don’t say that. You were attacked! I’m sure if you had some more time, you would’ve gotten it.”

_That’s not what I meant,_ Hyrule didn’t say. _Maybe if you had been there, in that room in the temple, Sky would be alive,_ he didn’t say. Instead, he just swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am!” Wind said, his chest puffing out. Hyrule let his lips turn upwards, even as Wind deflated. The next time he looked at Hyrule, his expression was searching. He leaned forward so that he only had to whisper. “Traveler, are you okay?”

Hyrule carefully didn’t react. The little spark of anger that had burned in his gut since Sky’s death flared. Anger at a lot of little things, but mostly at himself, and at Sky, and at the others’ suffocating concern when he didn’t even deserve it. “I’m fine,” he said, a lie.

“If you’re sure,” Wind said.

Hyrule nodded, tilted his head to look past Wind, and drawled, “Do you need to hear it too, Collector?”

Behind Wind, Legend crossed his arms. He took a few slow steps towards them. “Oh, yes, because sleeping fourteen hours straight and then waking up from a nightmare is absolutely fine.”

“Collector!” Wind scolded. “Be more subtle about it!”

Legend just shrugged.

Hyrule rolled his eyes, the anger burning brighter. “I have a right to nightmares. And I needed some sleep, but I’m fine now.”

“We don’t know what happened to you or what the longterm effects will be. The only thing we know about it is that the last time it happened to someone, he—” Legend cut himself off with an incoherent noise and let his legs fold under him to sit. “We don’t even know what _caused_ it.”

Legend was right, much as it pained Hyrule to admit. They didn’t understand this strange danger the world presented. And Hyrule still felt a bit off. His mind was clear, unlike last night, but his stomach complained every time he moved too quickly. He just didn’t like being fussed over, subtly or not. It was suffocating.

He didn’t dare mention the bleary moment after the pain had stopped, when he had opened his eyes and thought he saw Sky lying next to him. If they knew he’d hallucinated, they would only fuss more.

“At least we know how to counter it,” Wind said. “The Master Sword guided me, and I saw something in the air light up when I swung it, and then the traveler was okay.”

“The sword’s definitely tangled up in it somehow.” Legend tilted his head towards Hyrule. “I assume Sky was using it when he died?”

“Yeah….”

“And you were using it when you got hurt. Now, I don’t know what conclusion to draw from that, but it’s got to be significant.”

“Huh.” Hyrule exchanged a glance with Wind. “That makes sense.”

“So I think you should stop using it.”

For a short, confusing moment, Hyrule almost agreed. It would be a relief to agree. He wouldn’t think of Sky every time he looked at his weapon. He would be able to use the Magic Sword, a sword he knew inside and out. He wouldn’t fail to follow the Master Sword’s promptings fast enough, like he had twice already.

Then anger flooded his chest. “What? No! I can handle it!”

“It’s not about being able to handle it. It’s about safety.”

“I think the sword knows something we don’t about this world,” Wind interjected. “If she can help us, should we really just dismiss her?”

Hyrule ignored him in favor of glaring daggers at Legend. “You don’t think I can be safe with it. But I can be. I have to be, for Sky.”

“That’s not what I said.” Legend raised his eyebrows. “Look, much as you wish it would be, this isn’t even about you. _None_ of us should be wielding it.”

“You don’t think I’m handling it well enough.”

“None of us are! It’s getting us killed!”

“It _didn’t_ get me killed,” Hyrule bit out, “and unlike what you seem to think, I’m not stupid enough to let it!”

Legend pulled back as if he’d been burned. “What the _fuck,_ Traveler,” he said, voice gone soft. “It got _Sky_ killed.”

Hyrule flinched, hard.

“And you didn’t die, but you came—” Legend held up his finger and thumb close together. They shook slightly. “You came this close. If the sailor hadn’t been there, or if…. But if you think making yourself a _fucking liability_ is honoring Sky, I guess that’s your choice. I’m sure he’d thank you when you get someone hurt or killed.” He stood and turned on his heel, stalking across the camp.

Where the anger used to be, horror sunk a deep hole into Hyrule’s stomach. _Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,_ he thought, but he couldn’t force the words out.

“Are you okay?”

Hyrule jerked and looked at Wind, who watched him with eyes blown wide and scared. Hyrule stumbled to his feet, dropping the bowl in the dirt. He slid the Master Sword into his bag and held it in shaking hands.

“I’m sure the collector didn’t mean—”

“I’m just going to get some air,” Hyrule said. His voice sounded far away even to his own ears. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay close to camp.”

As he walked past the others, each pretending they hadn’t heard his and Legend’s conversation, Wind grabbed at his arm. “Wait, Traveler—”

Hyrule shook him off, and Wind let him go. So did everyone else.

This world was wide, open, and nearly deserted. After making his way over a shallow hill, Hyrule collapsed on a slope and tipped his head up to feel the wind on his face. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sky,” he said, voice cracking. “I’m sorry I insulted you, and I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so _sorry._ ”

Sky wouldn’t blame him. Hyrule knew that. The others didn’t blame him, either, though Hyrule wished they would. So it was almost a relief to hear Legend call him a liability. It was the anger Hyrule wanted, the anger that proved him right.

He knew how to be responsible for himself. He knew how to push through the worst and come out the other side having struck Ganon down. What he didn’t know was how to be responsible for other people. He wasn’t cut out for it, but whenever he tried to explain this to the others, they pushed back. _You’re a hero,_ they would say and wouldn’t understand when Hyrule responded, _That doesn’t matter if I keep messing up._

For the first time in a long while, someone had understood. Someone had said, _you know what? You’re right. You aren’t cut out for this,_ and as much as the words hurt, they also loosened something in his chest.

He was right about himself. He knew where he stood. He could work with that.

Light forced Hyrule’s hands away from his face and his eyes open. He sat up to stare at the ball of light that hovered in the air, shivering faintly. He understood why the others had mistaken the sharp glow for a fairy. But Hyrule knew fairies, maybe better than any of them, and it was clear from a glance that this light lacked any wings or body behind it.

“What are you?” he asked it softly.

The light moved closer to him. It rested over his hand, and Hyrule let it, too exhausted to do anything else. It hovered there for a second before sliding down to his bag and poking at the flap.

Hyrule leaned over and flipped it open. “Something in here?” He grabbed the item at the top—the Master Sword—and pulled it out, hauling it into his lap.

The light hovered over the hilt.

“You’re the Master Sword?” Hyrule asked.

The light swung from side to side, but before Hyrule could ask it any more questions—did it really understand him?—it disappeared.

He gripped the Master Sword tight. _This is how you help me,_ Sky had said. _Trust her._

Sometimes—most of the time—Hyrule wished Sky had said something else. The Master Sword felt awkward in his hands. He couldn’t keep her balanced, and he lost the use of half of his spells with her. Wielding her just didn’t feel right.

But he couldn’t give up. It was silly to expect wielding such a blade to be easy. If he gave up at the slightest difficulty, what kind of hero was he?

“Are you guiding me?” he whispered to her. “I think the sailor is right. You have some power in this world that we need. We can’t just put you away. And—and I have to be the one to wield you, because you’re guiding me. Right?”

He imagined going back to camp. He imagined looking at Legend—or at Time, who’d surely heard everything—and saying, _I know I’ll be a liability, but I have to do this anyway._

Legend was right. He was a liability, and he couldn’t continue to be. But he also couldn’t give up the sword. “I’ll go back to camp eventually,” he told her, as if justifying his actions. “But I need to take a walk first.”

Standing up and securing her to his back, he set a course west.

_Stay close,_ he reminded himself and picked a steep hill to mount before going back. He couldn’t get lost as long as he kept things simple.

Hyrule was good at simple.

When he made it to the crest of the hill, he looked west and froze.

Below him, and only a few miles away, a horrible gouge carved itself out of the earth. Long and wide at the same time, a fog covered it, so thick it looked smoky. The fog overflowed and spilled out across the dead ground that surrounded the gouge.

In the middle of it all, the tips of tall towers peeked out, stretching towards the sky.

Usually, valleys ran between two mountains. Every time someone had said Castle Valley, Hyrule had imagined mountains rising out of the earth side by side, a cramped town snaking between them. He hadn’t imagined this.

“Guys!” he called, but no one responded.

He turned around. Perched on the tall hill as he was, he could see the camp below, but he was quite a bit further away than he’d realized. He waved his arms for a second, but the small smears of color that were the other Links didn’t move.

The light appeared again. It swooped in a circling pattern and travelled down the hill in front of Hyrule. He took a step after it, but stopped.

He stared at the camp. The Links were gathered in tight knots. Hyrule could just pick out the royal blue of Warriors’s scarf and the gleam of Time’s armor. Epona stood with her head in the grass, grazing.

_A liability,_ Legend had called him. If wielding the Master Sword made him a target, Hyrule was putting more than just himself in danger, and he couldn’t stand for that. He wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt because of him.

He also wasn’t going to give up the Master Sword—at least not willingly—but that put him in an impossible position. As long as he was with the group, he couldn’t both wield the sword and avoid being a liability.

He glanced back at Castle Valley. The fog rolled in the wind.

As long as he was with the group.

Hyrule didn’t know how to be responsible for others. But he knew how to be responsible for himself. He knew how to push through the worst and come out the other side having struck Ganon down. He could do it again. This time, he had the Master Sword to guide him.

This time, he wouldn’t fail.

He turned again and walked towards Castle Valley. Behind him, the light grew brighter.

Hyrule looked at it. It moved back towards camp. He smiled. “Don’t worry. This is the best for all of us.” When the light didn’t move, Hyrule added, “I know I should probably tell them. But if I did, do you really think they would let me go on alone?”

The light quivered. It grew even brighter for just a second before disappearing entirely.

Hyrule took it as agreement. “I’m glad you understand.” He nodded towards the fog. “Come on. There’s no time to waste.”

* * *

The afternoon sun was hot and dry. Hyrule stood under the shade of a tree and slipped the circlet over his head. Cool metal pressed against his forehead, distracting where it rested between his eyebrows. Its magic, braided tightly into the material, thrummed against his skin.

The fog lay just ahead of him. It billowed in the wind, licking against the lightly wooded area Hyrule stood in. He stared at it and reached a hand up to grip the hilt of the Master Sword over his shoulder. “We can do this.”

He walked. His shadow cut through the leaf-patterned darkness that splattered the grass. Rodent chatter and bird song surrounded him. Lulled by the warm day and the sunlight tickling his face, it was almost easy to forget the task ahead of him. He had always felt safest when he was alone, and this was no exception.

Until he heard the hiss. He froze, reaching up over his shoulder to draw the sword.

Feet crunched through grass behind him. Before he could turn, bony claws wrapped around his stomach. He yelped as the skeleton lizalfos lifted him up and started running. It pinned his hands to his side. He couldn’t draw the sword, but he could reach into the bag at his hip. He drew out his boomerang and drove one of its points into the lizalfos’s hip socket.

It cried out and dropped him. He went tumbling. Before the lizalfos could attack him again, he scrambled to his feet and drew the Master Sword, slashing it across the lizalfos’s chest. It collapsed into a pile of bones. He raised the sword to destroy the black stone that tumbled out of its skeleton.

Another blade met his. A stalfos stood stiffly with its sword twisted to block him. Its empty eye sockets looked straight past Hyrule, its posture unnatural in a way he didn’t associate with the skeletal creatures. In one movement, it pushed his sword up with its own, and he had to step back to dodge its strike. Thanks to its stiffness, the stalfos was technically perfect but unimaginative. Even with a heavier, longer sword than Hyrule was used to, he managed to fend it off half by instinct and half by pure luck.

Then pain twisted Hyrule’s stomach. The Master Sword wobbled in his hands. The stalfos darted in, but it didn’t spear Hyrule through. Instead, it wrapped its arm around Hyrule’s neck, hauling him back and gripping his sword arm to keep him from swinging.

Spots appeared in Hyrule’s vision in seconds. His grip slipped on the sword. He couldn’t call out as the world tilted out from under him.

He gasped awake in a cage.

His hands flailed out and hit metal bars. He sat up and had to hunch to avoid hitting his head. Some sort of covered cart surrounded him. Just as Hyrule looked, the stalfos hopped out of the back, the cloth flap settling back into place behind it.

The cage took up most of the cart, but in one corner, a skeleton lay crumpled, the skull balanced on top of the pile and its gaze turned away. Hyrule let his eyes slide past it to find, in the other corner, his things—the Master Sword and his bag. Magic hummed at his temples, and when he reached up, the metal circlet still rested on his head.

With a jerk, the cart began moving. Hyrule slumped into the bars. He could see the shadow of the stalfos’s body through the fabric where it must’ve been guiding the horse. “Where are you taking me?” he called to the front, but no answer came.

There would be no help coming. The others had no idea where he was. They’d certainly noticed he was gone by now, but they wouldn’t know where to search.

How had it all gone so wrong so quickly?

Hyrule took a deep breath and gripped the bars. They weren’t wide enough for his arm to fit between, and he certainly couldn’t reach the lock from inside. He shouldn’t have had any hope of escaping, but it wasn’t over. He had a trick up his sleeve that his kidnapper had no way of knowing.

He closed his eyes and let his magic well up in him. It swept over him, and he grabbed at it to direct its force in the right direction.

He opened his eyes and beat his wings. Now just small enough to fit through the bars, Hyrule zipped out from between them and hovered beside the huge Master Sword. He enjoyed being a fairy, but he wouldn’t dream of trying to carry the sword or his bag in this state. He would have to turn back, grab them, and then quickly run out of the back of—

“Huh. I didn’t know you could do that.”

Hyrule whirled, ready to flee for his life, and almost fell out of the air. The figure who had spoken stood at the back of the cart looking just as Hyrule remembered him, complete with the ridiculous white cape he insisted on calling a sailcloth.

_"Sky?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	9. Castle Valley

Sky rocked back on his heels. “You can _see_ me?”

“I’m not seeing things again, am I? I thought—I thought—”

In fairy form, Hyrule’s voice squeaked through high registers, though Sky thought a small part of that might be panic. A grin split his face so wide his cheeks hurt. “You can see me!”

“Are you real?” Hyrule asked and fluttered closer. He looked exactly the same, except in miniature, with fairy wings sprouting from his back. His clothes and the circlet on his head had shrunk with him. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You’ll have to.” Words crowded Sky’s thoughts, words he could use to reassure Hyrule and put his worries to rest, but all of that was drowned out by an incessant mantra: _He can see me. He can see me._ “I’ve been trying to tell you with the light!”

“That was you?”

“Yes!”

“You know running your mouth won’t get him to hear you,” Medus commented from where he sat with his skeletal anchor in the front. Hyrule fluttered close to Sky.

“Who’s that?”

Sky kept his voice low. “Medus. He’s a ghost like me, but he’s working for Ganon. We need to get out of here before he notices you’ve escaped.”

“Yeah. Good idea. Uh… I can change back, grab the sword and bag, and then we’ll just jump out?”

Sky shut his mouth over the words _but I don’t want to be invisible again._ Instead, he said, “Can you transform afterwards so we can talk?”

“Sure.” Hyrule beat his wings and zipped away from Sky. He moved just like a fairy, though he lacked the characteristic pink glow Sky was used to. With a smear of light, he transformed into the full-sized Hyrule again.

He didn’t waste any time in strapping his bag to his waist and slinging Fi over his shoulder. Then he morphed into a fairy and shrunk everything with him.

Sky relished the way Hyrule’s head turned towards him, really truly seeing him. “Ready?” Hyrule asked.

“Yes.”

Hyrule flitted out of the gap in the cart’s canvas. With some effort, Sky let the impression of his body fade away as his mind’s own creation. He phased through the canvas and emerged into a thick fog. “We’re in the valley,” he gasped, before turning to watch the cart disappear as it trundled away. He wanted to go after it, to get rid of Medus, but that would put Hyrule at risk, and he couldn’t let that happen again. Besides, he reminded himself, their real target was Ganon.

Hyrule hovered close to Sky, and in the deep fog, Sky could see that he did give off a soft sort of glow. He didn’t respond or even look at Sky.

Sky’s stomach dropped. “Traveler? Can you still see me?”

Hyrule turned his head. “ _Sky,_ you’re alive?”

“Yes. And you’re—and you’re _really_ dumb.”

Hyrule beat his wings, hard. “I’m sorry about what I said—”

“It’s not about _that_. It’s about—what were you _thinking_ , just leaving them? I mean, fine, the collector was a jerk, but that’s not a reason to leave them! They’re going to be so worried!”

“You think so?”

Sky thought of the time Hyrule and Wild had gotten lost in the woods. The group had searched for them all day, and worry had curled in Sky’s stomach, growing more constricting every moment. “Of course I think so,” he said, his voice gone strained and soft. He blinked hard as the backs of his eyes burned.

Hyrule ducked his head. “I don’t mean to worry them. But the collector is right. If I stay with them, I’ll just be a liability.”

“ _Please_ don’t say that.” Sky had to swallow to keep his voice from breaking. “It’s not true, and you know it.”

“It is. I already am. I let you die.”

“Don’t, _please_ _don’t_ —” Sky sank to the ground and hid the way his eyes were getting wet by ducking his head. He’d known this was coming. He’d known Hyrule blamed himself, but the words still hurt like a knife wound.

Hyrule sank with him and perched on his hand. Unlike every physical object for days, Sky could feel the brush of Hyrule’s tunic, the weave fantastically rough, as he leaned against Sky’s fingers. Sky lifted his hand so that they were level, and Hyrule tilted his head at him. “I know you don’t blame me. But I’m sorry anyway.”

“But that’s just the thing, if I don’t—then you—” Sky couldn’t stop the sob that shook his body. Ashamed, he covered his eyes with his free hand.

Hyrule leapt off of him. “What’s wrong?”

Sky brought his other hand up and used them to scrub at his eyes. “I’m fine.” Heat worked its way up his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m just so, _so_ relieved you can see me.”

The light might’ve worked eventually, but it was nothing compared to this. The thoughts that hadn’t left him all week— _I’m not dead, I’m here, I’m still here_ —were put to rest, because now Hyrule knew they were true, too.

He still didn’t have a body. The others still didn’t know. But sitting here, with Hyrule in miniature form making eye contact and reacting to his words, Sky couldn’t be happier.

He pulled his hands away from his face and blinked the tears out of his eyes. Watching him solemnly, Hyrule fluttered closer and reached a hand out. He pressed it against the tip of Sky’s nose. “I’m relieved I can see you, too.”

Sky blinked. He smiled. “Thanks.” And then he laughed. Hyrule pulled back, and Sky laughed again. “I wish I could hug you! You’re adorable.”

Hyrule crossed his arms.

“Anyway.” Sky bit down on his giggles and rubbed at his cheeks to dry them. “I’m going to get you to stop blaming yourself eventually, but in the meantime, we should head back.”

Hyrule’s eyes darkened. “No. I have to use the Master Sword.”

“You do. She can cut anchor lines—she can kill Ganon—so yes, she has to be used. That doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

“I’ll just be a danger to them, and they won’t let me use her, anyway.”

Sky shook his head. “They don’t know about me or about the anchor lines. If you tell them what you know, they’ll go along with it.”

“You’re right. But.” Hyrule’s head jerked up. “But that doesn’t mean the collector is wrong. I’m still a danger. It’s my destiny to defeat Ganon again, but I have to do it alone. We both know it.”

Sky opened his mouth, but Hyrule was already disappearing into a whirl of light. Sky scrambled to his feet. “Wait! Don’t cut me off!”

Hyrule appeared in human form. He reached up to brush his fingers over Fi’s hilt as he took a steadying breath. His gaze went straight through Sky.

“No!” Sky clenched his fists and resisted the urge to grab at Hyrule. “You didn’t listen to me! You have to—turn back! You have to listen to me!”

As Hyrule’s head tilted, the silver circlet glinted even in the fog’s dim light. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Sky half-screamed and dug his foot into the dirt. It didn’t shift an inch. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” He flung his arms up and called light to his hands, bringing them down in one swift movement. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for days. You don’t get to ignore me!”

Hyrule’s eyes tracked the light. “I’m _sorry,_ ” he said, but this time his voice was edged with anger.

Sky grabbed Hyrule’s hand and blinked against the dizziness that threatened his balance. “Why can’t you just accept help for once in your life?”

_“I’m sorry!”_ Hyrule snapped. Sky’s hands darkened and fell away. He swayed on his feet. “Can’t you see I’m doing this for you?”

“No,” Sky said. “You’re not.”

* * *

Castle Town was in ruins.

Its streets were wider than Kakariko’s but still narrow. They ran between half-intact buildings that crumbled at their foundations. Skeletons lay collapsed on porches and in the middle of the street. Hyrule picked his way past them without comment, though he stared at them warily, probably in case of sudden reanimation.

Sky half-expected there to be ghosts, like Medus, peering out of the broken windows and watching them pass. Ganon’s fog tore souls from their bodies. Where were they?

But Medus was a liar. Sana had told them of the fog’s effects, but she never said what happened after. Perhaps the souls didn’t stick around like Medus had said. But if they didn’t, where did they go?

Sky hoped they were in a better place. He suspected they weren’t.

Hyrule paced through the ruins without pausing to take in the scenery. His hands clenched into fists so tightly that Sky could see his knuckles whiten. When they reached a half-open wrought-iron gate that led into the castle grounds, Hyrule hesitated.

He bowed his head and stared stonily at the ground. “I hope you’re still here.”

“I’ll never leave,” Sky said. “Even when you’re being stupid.”

Hyrule took a deep breath, and Sky could almost pretend he had heard him. With a few quick steps, Hyrule pushed through the gate and made his way to the castle wall. He picked a direction and rested a hand against the wall as he walked. It wasn’t long before they met an alcove in the side. Out of it peered a broken window.

The edges of the glass were jagged, like sharp teeth set into the rotting windowsill. With a thoughtful look, Hyrule pressed the back of his hand against the wood of the sill. It creaked. He pulled out his boomerang, backed up a few steps, and threw it at one edge of the sill.

With a crash, the entire window collapsed inwards, leaving an empty stone hole in the castle’s wall. Hyrule scrambled through, and Sky phased through after him. They emerged into some sort of servants’ quarters. Rotting bunk beds lined the four walls, and another broken door led into a narrow hallway. Hyrule stepped into it and looked both ways.

“We are going to get so lost,” Sky muttered.

Hyrule picked a random direction and followed the hallway until it led up spiraling stairs into a wider room. This room looked to be some sort of common space, with a few sofas and chairs in the center under a huge, painted ceiling mural. More paintings lined the walls.

Sky didn’t have time to take in the art. The roar of a monster shook the room.

He looked up as Hyrule walked in, oblivious to the danger. The thing was another of those creatures, its melting skin revealing cracks of light as its tail whipped through the wall. It crouched in the corner, its anchor line leading to the ceiling.

The mere thought of using magic again exhausted Sky, but he stumbled forward and put a hand on Hyrule’s shoulder, calling light to his hands and ignoring the way his vision tunneled.

“Sky?” Hyrule asked, freezing. He reached up to grab Fi’s hilt, but he was too late.

The monster charged. The light spilling out of its body brightened, and Hyrule flinched, whirling to face it. Paws hit Hyrule’s chest and bowled him over. The creature’s claws dug in.

Hyrule screamed.

Sky screamed with him, punching the creature, trying to get it off of Hyrule and give him time to draw the sword. The creature ignored him. It bat at Hyrule with a paw.

“Stop it!”

A girl and a boy stepped through the wall together. The boy leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest while the girl rushed forward. Sky caught a glimpse of anchor lines extending from their waists and upwards through the ceiling with no anchor in sight. The girl brought her hands up and around and punched the monster on its nose.

It roared and staggered backwards, its light dimming. Hyrule stumbled to his feet, drew Fi, swung her, and missed.

The girl grabbed Hyrule’s hand and tugged at it. “Run!” she yelled.

Hyrule stared down at the hand with wide eyes, but he didn’t seem to have heard her. Sky stood frozen to the side, watching her. Her blond hair fell to her shoulders, and her wide blue eyes were framed by an intricate silver tattoo that cut across her cheekbones and swept upwards at the sides. They looked just like the tattoos on the Hylians in the fairy temple’s tapestries.

Sky looked at the boy, and the boy looked back. He raised his eyebrows under his dark hair and tilted his head slightly. The silver markings under his eyes almost glowed.

“Sky?” Hyrule asked, voice uncertain. Sky’s attention shifted, and he stepped to Hyrule’s side.

“Come on!” the girl insisted. She tugged hard, and Hyrule stumbled after her.

“Sky, what’s happening?” Hyrule said.

“You’re a ghost, but you can touch him,” Sky realized aloud, but the girl only glanced at him as she pulled Hyrule out of the room.

Sky kept his eyes on the creature as they left, but it only hissed and lashed its tail. Its claws slid out, but then the boy stepped away from the wall, and it practically cowered. When Sky stepped into the next room, the girl grabbed his sailcloth. “Hey!” Sky said, taking a step away.

“Who are you and what the hell are you _doing_ here?” she demanded. Shorter than Sky and perhaps three or four years younger, she still cut an intimidating figure.

“We’re—”

Hyrule gasped and fell to his knees.

“Traveler!” Sky crouched by him and settled his hands on Hyrule’s shoulders, even though Hyrule couldn’t feel him. Not like the girl.

Hyrule unclipped a potion from his belt, knocking it back almost desperately. The empty bottle in hand, he slumped into the wall and laid Fi by his side. Cautious fingers explored the bloodstained holes in his tunic, courtesy of the creature’s claws.

Sky glanced back at the door. The boy stood there in its frame, his arms crossed, but behind him, the creature had gone quiet.

“Thank you,” Hyrule breathed.

“Don’t thank me,” Sky told him, and the girl snorted.

“I don’t know what your friend thinks he’s doing, as if a fake Master Sword could kill Ganon,” she said. “He’s going to get himself killed.”

Sky didn’t look away from Hyrule. “The Master Sword’s not fake.”

“We don’t appreciate liars,” the boy said, softly.

“It’s a pretty good fake, I’ll give you that,” the girl said. “But the real sword was shattered into a thousand tiny pieces in front of my eyes, so you won’t fool me.”

Sky had to close his eyes. His hands trembled, briefly, before he stilled them. The thought of Fi being destroyed—being _killed—_

So Fi was dead, here. But this world wasn’t, and it could still be saved.

He turned around and angled himself so he had the boy and girl both in his line of sight. They were ghosts, but they were as alive as Sky was. As Fi had said, their souls lived on, and that was what living was. “You’re Link and Zelda, right?”

Link’s eyes narrowed. Zelda tossed her hair. “And if we were?”

Sky let himself smile despite the tightness in his shoulders. He could see the likeness to his Zelda in her face and the way she held herself, back straight. “You are.”

“Maybe,” Link said.

“We’re time travelers. The sword is from the past.”

Link turned his head away. “I said we don’t appreciate liars.”

“What would it take for me to convince you?”

“You can’t.”

Zelda held up a hand. “Link.” She eyed the sword with an unreadable expression. To Sky, she said, “Let me examine it.”

Hyrule still slumped against the wall, peering upwards at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell in a sharp, steady rhythm. The sword lay by his side, so Sky nodded at it. Zelda stepped forward, kneeled, and touched the sword. It glowed under her hands. Hyrule twitched and gave it a withering look. “What do you want now?”

Zelda pulled her hands away, and Fi’s blade darkened. Hyrule dragged the sword to his lap and stared at her, but in the next moment, Fi herself appeared out of it. Zelda leaned back.

“Your Highness,” Fi said.

“Not anymore.”

Link stepped forward and put a hand on Zelda’s shoulder. His eyes tracked over Fi’s face and down her arms. “Who are you?”

Fi bowed her head. “I am Fi, the spirit of the Master Sword.”

Link looked at Zelda sharply. “He didn’t lie,” Zelda muttered, meaning Sky. “That is the real Master Sword.”

“Why have I never met you?” Link said.

“I am from the distant past,” Fi said. “In my near future, I will enter into a deep sleep within the sword. I will not be able to communicate with you when you wield me. I am sorry for this.”

Zelda looked back at the sword in Hyrule’s hands. Hyrule relaxed into the wall with some reluctance, his eyes narrowed in annoyance or fatigue, Sky couldn’t tell.

“Is that why you lack energy?” Zelda asked. “I didn’t recognize you at first because back when Link wielded you, you overflowed with spiritual energy. But now… it’s so dim.”

Fi looked at Sky, who shifted under the sudden weight of her gaze. “To save his life, I anchored Link’s soul to the Master Sword. It took much of my energy, and regaining it is slow.”

Her eyes were sad, and for the first time, Sky thought he understood the sacrifice she had made. He could see the slump of her shoulders, the way her head bowed gently downwards. She was tired, exhausted, but she had done it all for Sky. He choked back the apology on his lips. For another time, he told himself, when they were alone.

“You didn’t anchor my soul to anything,” Link said. “Zelda did.”

Sky stepped forward and shook himself out of his guilt. “She means me. My name’s also Link. Are there any legends in your time, of the reincarnations of the hero?”

Zelda frowned. “I always thought those were bullshit.”

The words startled a laugh out of Sky. “Well, they’re true! There are lots of us, and we’re all named Link.”

“I’m your reincarnation?” Link said.

“Yes.” Sky smiled. “I’m the first one—at least as far as we know—but there are many after me.” He pointed at Hyrule. “He’s a Link, too, and there are others, but—but we were separated.”

“I never thought the legends were bullshit.” Something Sky couldn’t identify passed over Link’s face, and he swallowed. “I’m glad they aren’t.”

Warmth settled in Sky’s chest. “Me, too.”

“Well, don’t let it go to your head,” Zelda said.

Link rolled his eyes. “Enough of that.” With one last glance at Sky, he turned back to Fi. “If you’re really the Master Sword, we need to go right away.”

“I apologize,” Fi began, “but I’m not certain that I have enough energy to sever Ganon’s anchor line.”

“You don’t,” Zelda said,"but I can give it to you. I don’t know if you know, but in our time the royal family serves as a conduit between the physical and spirit realms. I can channel the spirit realm’s energy into the sword and restore you.”

Fi’s eyes widened and her shoulders rose before she settled into a more neutral position. “That would be helpful.”

“You would do that for her?” Sky asked.

“Of course.” Zelda moved towards the sword again. “After Ganon destroyed the Master Sword, we didn’t think we had any hope. That sword is the only thing in existence that can cut anchor lines, and Ganon made his anchor impossible to destroy. Link and I have been hiding for years in the shadows of Castle Valley, avoiding Ganon’s gaze and trying to find a way to cut his anchor line without the Master Sword. But if the sword is here…” She paused with her hands hovering over the blade. “Ganon is in his last days.”

She laid her hands on the blade, and it glowed. Hyrule tensed but didn’t move. A ringing sound crept through the air, and Hyrule heard it, too, because he brought one hand to his ear, wincing.

When Zelda stepped back, and the light had faded away, Fi smiled. “Thank you, Your Highness.” She twisted in a circle, an almost pirouette. “I have enough energy to appear to the physical realm.”

“Wait—” Link said, but Fi twirled again and looked to Hyrule. Hyrule’s gaze snapped up. He grabbed the Master Sword and brought her up to bear against Fi, but she clattered out of his hands immediately. He clutched at his wrist. Fi had burned him.

“Who are you?” he asked, staring at her with wide eyes.

“I am the spirit of the Master Sword. You may call me Fi. It is good to finally meet you, Hero of Hyrule.”

“Fi?” Hyrule gaped. “I’ve heard Sky call you that, haven’t I?”

“I would not be surprised.”

“Stop messing around,” Link told Fi. “We need to get to Ganon.”

Sky gave him a sharp look. “She’s not messing around. And besides, he’s the only one of us with a body here. He needs to know what’s going on so he can use the Master Sword to cut Ganon down.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Zelda said. She touched the tattoos under her eyes. “He doesn’t have the spirit sight. He won’t be able to see Ganon or the anchor line, and the sword’s guidance won’t be enough.”

“But he’s the only one of us who can wield her.”

Zelda looked up. “I can transfer most anchor lines, and I left Link and I’s bodies in the stasis chambers the royal family constructed. We will return to our bodies, and we will take him down.”

“Together,” Link said, putting a hand on Zelda’s shoulder. “This is our world. It is our duty to save it.”

They weren’t wrong, and far be it from Sky to counter anyone’s goddess-given destiny, but his mind was stuck on another detail. “You can return ghosts to their bodies?”

Zelda didn’t hesitate. “How long ago did you die?” she said.

“Only a few days. My body’s buried not far from here.”

“Then, yes, I can. Your body will not be too far gone, and if this works? If Ganon is defeated?” Zelda paused. “It will be the least I can do.

Sky wavered on his feet, feeling faint. “Thank you,” he said.

“Don’t thank me yet. Sword spirit, are you done?”

Fi turned to Zelda, but still spoke to Hyrule. “They are anxious to leave,” she said.

Hyrule followed Fi’s gaze and looked straight past Zelda, still blind to her. “So there’s really a Princess Zelda here?” Without waiting for an answer, he pushed himself off of the wall and sunk to one knee, crossing a hand over his chest.

“None of that, please,” Zelda said.

“I am at your service, Your Highness,” Hyrule said, oblivious. “For you, I will venture into the darkest dungeons if you will only point the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zelda and Link live!
> 
> This chapter covers a lot of ground, so I hope it all made sense.


	10. Hyrule: The Magic Sword

The stasis beds looked like coffins.

Hyrule couldn’t help the shiver that worked its way up his back as he walked between them. Set on stone platforms and covered by rounded stone lids, most of the beds were dark, but a soft silver glow lit two of them, revealing patterns that ran along the lids’ faces—patterns of wings and eyes, peering into the darkness.

The beds stood in a circular room high in the castle’s tallest tower. In the back of the room, a ladder led up to a trapdoor. Above it, according to Fi, slept Ganon.

“Her Highness requests that you open the active beds,” Fi said softly, where she floated next to Hyrule.

It wasn’t hard to guess which beds were the active ones. Hyrule walked to one and laid his hands against the cool stone for just a moment. There were no windows in this room, and though Hyrule had never been bothered by the dark, the way the soft silver light of the almost-coffin reflected off the stone around it made him doubt that lack of fear.

He pressed upwards, and with a soft release of air, like a sigh, the lid swung open.

A boy, just a touch younger than Hyrule, lay on the platform. His arms folded over his stomach, drawing attention to the silver and white detailing that swept over the sleeves of his dark green tunic and onto the body of the tunic itself. For a long moment, Hyrule simply stared at his slack face, tracing the tattoos under his eyes.

With a choking gasp, the boy jerked awake.

Hyrule pulled back as the boy— _Link_ —sat up. “Oh, that’s bizarre,” he said, his voice rough from long disuse. He tilted his head to look at Hyrule. “Do you have water?”

The loops on Hyrule’s belt were reserved for potions, but with a hand, he dug into his bag and handed a bottle of water over. After swinging his legs over the side of the platform, Link sipped at it and immediately broke into a coughing fit.

“Are you—” Hyrule began, alarmed.

Link waved him off. When he spoke, his voice still creaked. “It’s fine. Don’t touch me, though. The transition back is jarring.”

“Take your time,” Hyrule said, but Link’s attention wasn’t on him. Instead, his eyes flickered to somewhere next to Hyrule.

“We can’t all be naturals at it, you know,” he said.

Hyrule followed his gaze, but there was nothing there. At least, nothing Hyrule could see. “Wait, can you can still see Sky and Princess Zelda?”

Link tapped his tattoos. “When they took me in, the royal family gave me the spirit sight,” he said, as if that explained anything. Before Hyrule could ask—that question or any one of the many he had—Link stepped off the platform and took ginger steps to the other active bed. He pushed it open to reveal a girl his age in a long dress. After a moment, she gasped awake, too. She sat up and slid off the platform nimbly.

A broad grin split her face. “Still feeling great after fifteen years.”

“Of course you are,” Link muttered.

Zelda threw an arm around Link’s shoulders, and he flinched away. “ _Zelda._ ”

She dropped her arm. “Sorry.” Her hands settled on her hips, and she took a deep breath. “So. You.” She looked at Hyrule. “The other Link.”

“You can call me Traveler,” Hyrule said.

Zelda looked to the side, watching the middle of space for a moment before nodding sharply. Hyrule followed her gaze and wondered if he was looking at Sky.

He kept forgetting that Sky was there. That Sky was alive, and with him, and that the past few days of grief and heartache had been a lie.

“I see,” Zelda said. “I wonder what my Link’s nickname will be.”

Link crossed his arms. “We don’t have time for this.” He nodded at Hyrule. “The Master Sword? I’ll need it for Ganon.”

Hyrule hesitated. He should’ve known this moment was coming. And it made sense, too. If Link and Zelda could see ghosts, and Ganon was one, then it would have to be them.

The truth dug into his chest, sharp and painful with the realization he’d been wrong all this time. It was this Link’s destiny to wield the Master Sword against Ganon, not his.

He fumbled with the scabbard’s straps instead of responding, too afraid Link or Sky would hear the hurt in his voice. Link said, “There’s something you—and Fi, I suppose—should be prepared for.”

The clasp came undone, and the scabbard slid down Hyrule’s back. He caught it before it could fall. Fi floated close to his shoulder, a silent presence. Hyrule didn’t dare look at her. He knew now why wielding her had always felt so unnatural. He had never deserved the honor.

He wanted to be angry, but he only felt drained and hurt. After all that energy expended on Legend and Sky’s objections, it was for nothing. He had abandoned the group, all for nothing.

The thought left him numb.

“What is it?” he asked Link.

Link looked away to meet Fi’s eyes. “Even if Zelda and I survive this, Fi might not. Last time we tried this, the Master Sword was destroyed. Ganon got a hold of it, and, well…. So I want to make sure you and your wielder know there’s some risk here.”

“Thank you for the concern, but I understand the risk,” Fi said. “There is always a risk. I am prepared for it.”

Hyrule looked down at the sword. “I’m not her wielder,” he said, and the words felt like failure… and relief. He handed her off to Link, his shoulders relaxing as he did so. “You should talk to Sky. She’s his.”

“Sky?” Link asked. He paused, and after a moment, nodded and secured the sword to his back. “Thank you.”

Hyrule tucked his hand into his bag and found the hilt of the Magic Sword. “What should I do, while you fight?”

“When we start to fight, Ganon’s monsters might try to come after us,” Zelda said. “How about you guard this room for us?” She tilted her head for a moment and smiled. “Sky will stay with you. I can channel energy from the spirit realm into him, so he’ll be able to get farther away from the Master Sword and use that light spell. Your sword won’t be able to cut anchor lines, but it will be able to destroy anchors, and Sky can show you where those are.”

Hyrule let his shoulders settle. It wasn’t his destiny to fight Ganon. It had been arrogant of him to assume so. But maybe he could be helpful in some small way after all. He pulled his sword out of his bag. The weight settled into his grip with an ease borne out of years of experience. “Nothing will get past us, Your Highness.”

* * *

Hyrule looked around the room and wondered where Sky was.

He didn’t dare ask. He knew Sky would be eager to light up his hands and let him know, but Hyrule wanted to preserve that energy for monsters, when they would need it most.

Above him, the room Link and Zelda had disappeared into was eerily silent.

Hyrule adjusted the Magic Sword in his grip and gave it a few experimental swings. It hummed with energy. A quick pull and a twist of will would call fire to its blade. He tried not to feel relief that it was back in his hands. He shouldn’t feel it, not when he hadn’t been able to prove himself even once with the Master Sword, the sword that marked the hero he supposedly was.

_I’m sorry,_ he wanted to tell Sky but didn’t. _I’m sorry I couldn’t do what you wanted me to._

The castle rocked.

Hyrule hissed as his knee hit the stone ground. An awful roar shook the room, and he pressed a hand down to keep his balance. In some distant room, glass shattered.

A moment later, all was silent and still. Hyrule found his feet. Sweat slicked his grip on his sword as he imagined invisible monsters crawling across the walls. “Sky? Anything I need to know about?”

Sky didn’t answer. Hyrule hoped that meant no.

Another roar echoed from upstairs and filled the room, but this time, the castle didn’t shake. Hyrule wished he had his shield, but he’d left it on Epona, in a field far away. Link and Zelda were occupied. Sky was a ghost. Hyrule had abandoned the group. No help was coming.

Calm brought his mind to a sharp focus. For all his life, he had never been able to expect help. This was nothing new.

Sky’s light burst forth by the door, and Hyrule nodded. Fighting monsters was nothing new, either.

He stepped forward just in time to dodge the big cat that appeared out of thin air behind him. He whirled and slashed at its shoulder. It roared, flinched away, and disappeared. Sky’s light hovered at the door, so Hyrule followed it, down the spiraling stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Behind him, claws scraped against wood and stone.

He burst into a semi-circular room. Against the round wall stood a door that led to a bridge between this tower and the next. Hanging from the straight wall was a tapestry, less detailed than the fairies’, depicting a knight with his sword raised against a big cat.

Hyrule ducked under the bite of his own big cat and managed to catch its arm with his sword before it disappeared once again. Sky’s light flared over the tapestry. With a spiraling step, Hyrule cut his sword through the cloth and into the stone behind it.

Dark shards of rock spilled onto the floor. Hyrule spun and held his sword, ready for more, but Sky’s glow faded, and nothing else attacked.

Hyrule slumped against the ruined tapestry and couldn’t help the smile that split his face. “That was so cool! Thanks for the help.” He looked at where he had last seen Sky’s light. His sword rested in his hands, and Sky was alive. There were still many things to worry about when this was over, but for a moment, all was right in the world.

Sky’s light appeared again at the door that led to the bridge outside the room. Hyrule put on a burst of speed, eyes and ears ready to sense any sign of a monster, but when he pushed open the door, a different sight greeted his eyes.

“Traveler!” Wind called. He stood on the other side of the bridge with his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. Behind him, Twilight and Four’s heads peeked out.

“The traveler?” Legend said sharply from behind them.

“Sailor,” Hyrule returned, breathless, his stomach dropping. He took a step forward to meet Wind halfway.

Light burst in his periphery. A bird of prey’s sharp call tore the air just as a shadow fell over the bridge. His breath caught in his throat. He moved before he could think.

He and Wind hit the ground just as jet-black bird claws snapped over their heads.

The bird—large enough to carry multiple Hylians on its back, Hyrule realized with a jolt—wheeled around and vanished.

Hyrule pulled back so that Wind could sit up. The other Links crowded onto the bridge, some of them watching the sky, others staring at him and Wind.

“Woah,” Wind breathed. “That was close!”

Twilight offered Hyrule a hand up. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said. Hyrule didn’t want to face him, didn’t want to face the betrayal Twilight would surely feel that Hyrule had left them. He had thought it was the best for all of them, but the memory of Sky’s desperate light and the guilt in his stomach told him otherwise.

Besides, he didn’t have time for that. He pulled away from Twilight and glanced around. “Where’s the stone?” he asked the open air, but Sky’s light didn’t come.

The bird appeared again. Warriors jumped onto the bridge’s railing and shot fire at it. The bird beat its wings hard, and the fire arced away and downwards. “Duck!” Warriors called as he dropped back to the bridge.

Again, the bird vanished.

“Does anyone know how to fight it?” Time demanded, and Hyrule bit his lip.

“What’s that light?” Wind asked and pointed.

Hyrule turned his head to see a third tower in the distance adjacent to the bridge. A large black stone was set into its wall, and light spilled out just above it. _Thank you, Sky._

“That’s the ghost’s stone,” Hyrule said. “If we destroy it, the bird goes away.”

It wasn’t two seconds after his words were out that several arrows went flying. Wild jumped up to where Warriors had stood, and a moment later, he called, “I hit it!”

The stone remained intact.

“We need something more powerful,” Time said, as Sky’s light faded away.

“Flames?” Warriors asked.

Legend shook his head. “That thing doesn’t have the range.”

“We’ve got to try anyway,” Warriors protested, readying the rod, but Legend was right. The flames shot out of the rod and disappeared into nothing halfway between the bridge and the tower.

The air shimmered. The bird dived. Its eyes were fixed just above the railing, where Wild still perched.

“Champion!” Four called in warning just as it plucked Wild off the wall.

Wild’s bow dropped out of his hands and fell past the bridge to the ground below. Hyrule watched as the Links’ bows shifted from the anchor to the bird. His breath came in, sharp and heavy. He couldn’t watch another friend die.

_Think._

His sword hummed in his hand. The bird wasn’t the answer, Hyrule knew, even as it spiraled into the air, carrying Wild with it. The anchor was.

He looked at the stone set into the third tower’s wall. He judged the distance, and the pool of energy in his stomach, depleted from his earlier transformations.

It would have to be enough.

So he moved.

He leaped onto the railing and sprinted across the bridge. The tower the others had come from was shorter than Ganon’s. Its roof perched just above the bridge, so Hyrule scrambled atop it, moving closer to the third tower all the while. He took several steps along the sloped roof—don’t look down, don’t _look down_ —and pivoted on his heel.

He aimed the point of his sword at the anchor and breathed.

His magic cracked. The air turned electrified, and the sky flashed red. Hyrule kept his concentration on the stone, bending the destructive power of the spell towards it.

Thunder rumbled, and the stone shattered.

His knees gave out. He fell back against the roof and clutched at it with a free hand. Ignoring the darkness that creeped into his vision, he craned his neck up.

Wild was falling. He twisted in the air and dragged out his paraglider. It caught the wind, and he swung his body to change his direction. He landed nimbly on the bridge and smiled.

Hyrule looked down at his sword. It hummed in his hand, a warm, solid presence that he had missed. “Thank you,” he whispered to it.

“Traveler!”

Hyrule turned his head. Legend stood on the railing of the bridge and leaned forward over the roof, his hands held out. “Get down here,” he called.

“Give me a second.” Hyrule sheathed his sword and forced himself not to look over the edge of the roof. He scrambled across it and Legend grabbed his arms, helping to guide him to the ground.

Hyrule pulled away quickly, feeling empty. He’d expected anger when they reunited, not this.

“That was awesome!” Wind dragged him into a one-armed hug. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“It takes a lot of energy.”

The others crowded around him. Warriors dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Good work.”

_Why aren’t you mad at me for running away?_ Hyrule almost asked, but didn’t. Instead, he accepted Legend’s uncorked magic potion with numb fingers and drank.

“Thanks for the save. Seriously,” Wild said.

Hyrule resisted the urge to clutch at the Magic Sword’s hilt. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Where’s the Master Sword?” Four asked.

Hyrule dropped the empty bottle into his bag. “It’s a long story.” He shook his head as it cleared, the magic potion doing its work. They needed to know a lot of things, but there was one thing that couldn’t wait. “But I have something important to tell you first…. Sky’s alive.”

The bridge burst into chaos.

“What? How?”

“But we buried his body.”

“Where is he?”

“Can we see him?”

“Is he okay?”

“Well,” Hyrule amended, “he’s only sort of alive.”

That just set off another round of questions.

“ _Quiet,_ ” Time said. He held up a hand and waited until silence hung over them.“Traveler. What do you mean?”

Hyrule sighed and resisted the urge to look around and wonder where Sky was. What would—what _did_ —he think of all this? Hyrule decided it didn’t matter. The fact he was aware at all was good enough.

“He’s a ghost. Has been the whole time, following us around.”

Wild blinked. “Is he here right now?”

“He was the light that shined by the tower,” Hyrule said softly. “The one that told me how to kill the bird.”

Light curled over Hyrule’s shoulder, so close he almost flinched away. As he watched, he thought he saw it shaking in the air.

“He was that thing we thought was a fairy,” Four realized aloud, his eyes going wide.

“Hi, Sky!” Wind chirped.

“Uh, it’s good to… see you again, Sky,” Wild said. “Sorry about being a ghost. That must suck.”

“Don’t worry! We’ll figure out a way to get you back!” Wind promised.

Time put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” His face was troubled as he stared at Sky’s light.

“But we will keep it!”

“Actually,” Hyrule began, “Princess Zelda has—”

The castle shook. Hyrule fell into Wind, and they had to hold onto each other to stay upright. When it was over, Hyrule pointed to the tower above them. “This world’s Link is fighting Ganon up there.”

“He’s alive?” Twilight asked.

“Again, it’s a _long_ story.”

“How about you tell us on the way?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes, the chapter wherein Hyrule finally gets some sense. We love to see it.


	11. The Goddess's Will

Sky couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m here, I’m here,” he reminded the group every chance he got, and though they still couldn’t hear him, for the first time in days, they knew it was true.

In the room of stasis beds, Hyrule finished his explanation of what had happened, and there was a moment of quiet.

“So that’s why Ganon took you this morning,” Four said thoughtfully. “He wanted the Master Sword.”

Hyrule’s face shuttered. “What?”

“You said you were kidnapped,” Four said. “That’s why you disappeared, isn’t it?”

Sky sighed.

“Well, I was kidnapped, that’s true, but…” Hyrule brought a hand up to rub at his face.

“If you don’t tell them, I will,” Sky said.

Hyrule ducked his head and muttered something inaudibly.

“But?” Legend demanded.

“But I might’ve maybe run off alone before that. To go fight Ganon. Um. I’m sorry.”

“You _what?_ ” Legend exploded. He pushed his way to the front of the group. “What were you _doing?_ ”

Hyrule’s head snapped up. “You called me a liability. What was I supposed to do?”

“Oh, dear,” Sky muttered.

“That’s not what I said! The Master Sword was a liability.”

“It is what you said! And you were _right!_ So that’s why I left.”

“Well,” Legend said and made an ugly sound in the back of his throat. “That’s not what I _meant._ ”

Time stepped between Legend and Hyrule. “We can talk about this later.” He looked at Hyrule. “And we _will_ talk about this later. But let’s put it to rest for now. We need to focus on Ganon.”

Sky approached Hyrule. He didn’t touch him—now that Hyrule knew he was alive, it felt invasive in a way it hadn’t before—but he stood close. He watched as Hyrule ducked his head and glared at the ground.

“It has been quiet for a while,” Warriors said. “We might need to go after them.”

Hyrule touched his cheekbone, in the same place Link and Zelda’s tattoos sat.His voice came out soft. “Princess Zelda didn’t think I could help, because I can’t see ghosts. I think that goes for all of us.”

Warriors pursed his lips. “We can wait a bit. But we should be prepared to go up—”

With a creak, the trapdoor at the top of the ladder swung open, and Link’s boots appeared on the top rung. He practically ran down the ladder, Zelda following more slowly behind him. When he reached the bottom, he turned and blinked. “Oh, wow. There are a lot of you.”

Fi was strapped to his back. The sword, that was. Fi the sword spirit was nowhere to be found.

“How’d it go?” Wild asked.

Link grinned and looked at Zelda, who took his hand as she took the last step down. “We won.”

“Fi?” Sky asked.

Zelda looked at him. Her eyes were heavily lidded with fatigue. For the first time, Sky noticed a weakness to her posture. “Sleeping. I’ll restore her energy once mine is restored itself.”

Sky flushed even as the tension drained out of his shoulders. Fi was _safe_. He didn’t regret asking about her, but it was clear the last thing Zelda needed right now was more questions.

“Who’s she talking to?” Warriors said, eyes sharp.

“Your friend Sky,” Zelda said. “We can both see him.”

“You can translate for us!” Wind chirped, and Zelda smiled tiredly.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

Hyrule looked between the others and Zelda. “And you’ll put Sky back in his body.”

She nodded.

“You can do that?” Twilight asked.

“We’ve been wandering this castle for fifteen years. How do you think we look so young?”

Link huffed. “Yes, she can do it, and she will.” His eyes flickered to Sky. “It’s the least we can do, to thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” Sky said.

“Regardless.” Looking uncomfortable, Link wrapped an arm around Zelda’s shoulders and pulled her close. He looked at her and avoided anyone else’s gaze. “Is it time to see Castle Town?”

* * *

Zelda sat on the edge of a rotting porch and let her legs splay out in front of her. Link sat next to her, their shoulders brushing.

“My _home,_ ” Zelda said. All around them, the fog had already dissipated, leaving the sharp sun to illuminate the empty buildings and the skeletons that lay just outside of them. “I’ve imagined this moment for fifteen years, and I knew everyone was _gone,_ but—”

Link laid an arm around her back. “But it’s different, seeing it.”

Zelda turned her face into the crook between Link’s neck and shoulder. Feeling intrusive, Sky looked away to find the others gathered in a circle and carefully avoiding looking at Link and Zelda, too.

Wind apparently couldn’t help himself; he shot a furtive glance in their direction. “So, we’re going to take him with us, right?”

“It’s odd,” Warriors said. “Originally, we all came through the portals into the old man’s time. This has never happened.”

“The Master Sword was destroyed here, so I guess we must’ve been meant to deliver it,” Hyrule said.

Sky looked at Link with the Master Sword still strapped to his back. The thought of her being destroyed— _of her dying_ —put a lump in his throat. He wished they could take a portal to before that moment, just so they could save her, but he knew it was a lost cause.

_All things die, in the end,_ he reminded himself. _That’s how the goddess made it._

In the last week, he had ridden the knife’s edge between life and death, and now his ticket back to the side of life stood just in front of him. He would fight to be alive for as long as he could, because he loved every bit of it with everything he had. But he knew that in the end, he would die. And he wasn’t… _okay_ with it, but he’d always known it, and he could accept it.

“He’s another Link,” Time said, drawing Sky back to the conversation. “He has just as much a right to this journey as any of us.”

Together, Link and Zelda stood, their hands linked. Sky watched as they made their way over to the circle. Link pulled Zelda forward as it expanded to make room for them. “We wanted to ask,” he said, “where is Sky’s body buried?”

“Just outside of Kakariko,” Time said.

“Kakariko,” Link said. He turned to Zelda with wide eyes. “Sana’s going to be _so_ old.”

Zelda choked on a watery laugh. “ _We’re_ old, Link. Just not in body.”

“That’s different.”

Zelda drew in a breath and settled her shoulders. “Kakariko isn’t far. We should go soon. The sooner we get there, the less energy it will take for me to restore Sky’s body.”

“Right.” Link stepped out of the circle and lead Zelda firmly away from the castle without looking back.

Wind caught up with them and said, “Did Traveler and Sky tell you about the portals?”

“The portals?” Link said.

Time took a large step forward and caught up to them on Link and Zelda’s other side. “There’s something you need to know about why we’re here,” he said. He explained the cycle of reincarnation—the one Sky had let Demise start, though Time didn’t know that—and the portals, the monsters, and their journey through Hyrule’s eras, from its founding forward.

By the time Time finished, Link was staring straight ahead, his jaw tight. “I take it you’re saying I should come with you?”

“It seems that way, and we need all the help we can get fighting against these monsters.”

Zelda’s grip on Link’s hand tightened. “Link… do you really want to….”

“I’m sorry,” Link said, looking at Time. “I can’t come with you.”

Sky bit down on his cheek, something like shock jolting through him.

“Why not?” Wind said.

“I promised Zelda I would stay and help her rebuild Hyrule. And I want to. I—I know the goddess probably brought you here to help, and I should repay you by going with you… but as long as the world won’t fall apart without me, I need to stay here. I can’t just drop everything and leave. Not again. I’m sorry.”

“We’ve all left homes behind to be here,” Time said, not unkindly.

Link’s eyes hardened. Zelda opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Hyrule said, “You shouldn’t come if you don’t want to.”

He pushed his way forward until he was level with the small group walking ahead. Sky watched him as he cast a defiant look at Time, his shoulders pulled high. “We’ve been going through the portals for months, and we know we can handle the monsters. If Link wants to stay here, he should be able to make that choice.”

“I agree,” Time said. He looked past Hyrule to Link. “I just want you to be sure.”

With something of a dazed look, Hyrule relaxed and stepped back, and Sky fell into step next to him, looking at him curiously. He was surprised at Hyrule’s intensity, and also surprised to find he agreed. They didn’t need Link to be successful, and there was something buried deep in Sky’s chest that was tired of watching people convince themselves that being unhappy was okay because they thought they were obligated to do something.

Those people were mostly named Fi, Sky supposed.

“I am,” Link said. “Thank you.”

Zelda extracted her hand from Link’s grip and threw an arm around his shoulders. “Anyway, don’t worry about defying the goddess,” she said. “The royal family’s been goddess-defying for hundreds of years.”

“What?” Sky asked, his heart skipping a beat.

Zelda turned to him. “When the royal family discovered the ability to mess with the spirit plane, a lot of people thought we were going against the goddess’s wishes. Who were we, to play with life and death?”

“That’s not defying the goddess. She gave you that power, didn’t she?” Sky said.

Zelda smiled. “Maybe so. How would we know, anyway? It’s not like she’s talked to us directly.” She looked down at her hand and flexed it. “I’ve seen this power used for evil, but I know it can be used for good, too. Maybe defying death is defying the goddess, but I have to think it’s good, for people to live for just a bit longer.”

_Maybe defying death is defying the goddess._

That was what Fi had thought, hadn’t she? That her actions to keep Sky alive were against the goddess’s will? But Sky had never been convinced by her argument. Maybe, he could admit, the goddess hadn’t commanded it. But how could she be opposed to it? How could she be opposed to anyone living for just a bit longer?

How could she be opposed to Fi, doing the same?

Sky nearly tripped. “You okay?” Zelda asked, giving him a look. Some of the group glanced sharply in Sky’s general direction, following her gaze.

“I’m fine,” Sky said. “But I need to talk to Fi.”

* * *

Out in the grasslands of Hyrule, a rosy dawn kissed the horizon, and Sky had time to breathe.

The wind did not brush over his face, even as it rustled the others’ hair. His bare fingertips scraped dirt, but the sensation was dull and distant, as if his gloves weren’t fingerless at all.

All of this was true, and all of it had been true for a week now. Despite it all, he felt at peace. He had a future ahead of him, and so did Fi.

Zelda crouched on her knees and leaned over the bare Master Sword lying across the grass. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun to keep it out of her face. Beside her, Link sat crosslegged. He leaned back and threw his head to the sky. The breeze curled through his hair.

The rest of the Links sat arrayed in a loose circle, Sky included. Wild hung onto Hyrule’s every word as he described his brief encounter with Fi. Legend sat near them, listening in but pretending not to. Twilight stood next to Epona while Four settled himself on a rock, head perched on a hand. Time watched the proceedings with a face Sky couldn’t read, as usual. Wind sat with his side pressed against Warriors, who watched it all with a lazy smile. “I suppose this might be the time to mention that I’ve met her before.”

Sky sat up straight, shocked to attention. _Did she wake up for you, too?_ he wanted to ask, but Warriors couldn’t hear him, and he didn’t want to relay such a personal question through Link or Zelda, anyway.

“I don’t know if she’ll recognize me,” Warriors said. “Timeline shenanigans, and all that. But in case she does…”

They moved past it quickly, though, much to Sky’s disappointment. Zelda looked at him. “Ready?”

Sky nodded.

When Zelda laid her hands on the blade, it began to glow. A strange metallic sound vibrated out of it. One moment, Fi was not there, and the next, she was. Her gaze swept across the circle around her. It paused on Sky. Without being able to resist, Sky jumped to his feet and approached her, beaming. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“Me, too,” she said. “I am glad that you will soon be returned to your body.”

“Yeah.” Sky shifted on his feet. “But I need to talk to you about something important. So don’t go away.”

“I won’t.” Fi turned away from Sky and bowed to Link. “It was a pleasure to be in your service, Hero of Ghosts.”

Link nodded. “Thank you. For working with me, that is.”

“It was merely my duty.” Fi turned back and rotated around to look at everyone else one by one. “Hello, Heroes. I am Fi, the spirit of the Master Sword.”

“Sky told us you were asleep,” Wild said.

“Yes. I woke temporarily due to the extraordinary circumstances, but I will return to the sleep soon, forever.”

Sky took a step back and bit down on his urge to say anything. Wild leaned forward, eyes intent. “So is that why you woke up to speak to my Zelda?”

“I do not know. Although the event is in your past, it remains in my future,” Fi said. “As of yet, I have only served the Hero of the Sky. I know that in my future, I will not always live up to the tasks Her Grace has set for me. I apologize for that. I do not ask for your forgiveness, but I do ask for your kindness.”

The Links didn’t seem to know what to say to that. Sky sighed, and only because none of the rest of them could hear him, said, “Don’t apologize for things you haven’t even done yet.”

Fi’s eyes turned on him. “Link. You’re right. We should talk.”

A few minutes later, Fi was invisible to them again, but she floated next to Sky. The rest of them broke off into knots, heads bowing together.

“I want you to confirm something for me,” Sky said.

“What is it?”

“You said you didn’t want to go back to sleep.”

Fi’s head bowed. “Yes, that is true.”

Butterflies perched in Sky’s stomach and beat their wings against his insides. He swallowed. “Then I think you should do just that. Stay awake.”

Fi stared at him for a long, long moment. Sky bit his cheek to keep himself from backtracking before she responded. “It is Her Grace’s orders that I go to sleep,” she said.

“I know you think that. It’s just that… the more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t she let you choose?”

“I am a sword spirit. My one and only purpose is to serve Her Grace.”

“But Fi—” Sky stepped forward and grabbed the ends of Fi’s arms. “You are a conscious being. As far as I can tell, you experience emotion. You have desires. You want to stay awake. You may not be human, but you are a person, and people are complicated. They don’t only have one purpose.” He stepped closer. “It was my destiny to save Zelda and defeat Demise. It was yours to help me do that. But now all that is over, and we get to decide what happens next.”

“The sword calls me to sleep,” Fi said. “Even if I decided to stay awake, I would eventually succumb. It is _Her Grace’s order,_ Link. Even you cannot defy that.”

“I know that.” Sky swallowed. “Can I ask you something? If a child falls off of Skyloft, is it defying the goddess’s orders for a knight to catch them?”

“No.”

“But that child was moments away from death. Is it not the goddess’s will that the child will die?”

Fi’s eyes narrowed. “Of course it isn’t.”

“But the child will die someday. If not today, then in many years. They can’t avoid death forever.”

“No, but it is not wrong to fight for life,” Fi said, voice firm. “That is the very essence of the human spirit.”

“I knew you would see it that way.” Sky smiled. “That’s why you saved me, isn’t it? You didn’t want me to die, even though you know it will happen someday, no matter what you do.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying that your sleep is like death. You don’t want to go to sleep, and I don’t want to die, but it’s going to happen to both of us anyway. You’re a _person,_ Fi. If it’s not wrong to fight against death, then how can it be wrong to fight against this? Maybe it’s inevitable, or maybe we can pray to the goddess and she’ll fix it, or maybe Zelda will know something. But it doesn’t matter. It’s never wrong to want to stay awake.”

Fi pulled away, but she didn’t answer immediately. So used to her instant objections, Sky hoped that it was a win. “I want you to stay awake,” he pushed, speaking softly. “I know you want to stay awake. So as your friend, I’m asking you to fight, even if just for a little longer. If that’s the very essence of the human spirit, then I don’t see how the goddess would object at all.”

Fi bowed her head. She floated closer until her forehead pressed against Sky’s. He closed his eyes. “I can’t decide that,” she said. She didn’t exactly whisper. She never _whispered._ But her voice was soft enough that, if they were not so close, Sky wouldn’t have heard it. “Not so quickly.”

“At least consider it. Please. Stay awake for a few days and think about it.”

Fi nodded against his forehead. “I will. For you, Link.”

“Thank you,” Sky whispered.

After a minute, they pulled apart. “Why don’t we go tell them we’re ready to go?” he said. “I’m anxious about how my body is doing.”

Fi led the way to Zelda, Link, and Hyrule’s side, the two of them stumbling upon some conversation about the Master Sword. Tucked into her scabbard, Link offered her to Hyrule, who took her with delicate hands. He still had his sword strapped to his back, and he didn’t remove it. Instead, he slipped the Master Sword back into his bag.

“Not going to use it?” Link asked.

“No," Hyrule said. “Sky will be alive to use her in just a couple days, anyway.”

“All right.” Link’s eyes slid to Sky, and he nodded a greeting.

“Ready to go?” Zelda asked. “Everybody else is.”

“Are you saying we’re holding you up?”

Zelda’s eyes crinkled at the edges when she smiled. “Believe what you want.”

Sky turned to look at Castle Valley, just visible in the distance. Without the fog over it, he could see the barren wasteland Ganon had made. Out of the mass of rocks, mud, and broken buildings rose the castle, marked by signs of battle, from scorch marks to a half-collapsed tower.

This world had been brought to its knees by Ganon. The weight of that settled in Sky’s chest, heavy and nearly suffocating. Now that he knew the future of Hyrule and the role he had played in it, he would never be able to forget it.

But.

This world had been brought to its knees by Ganon, and then it had stood back up. He knew it would always get back up, because its people were descendants of the people of Skyloft, and the people of Skyloft could do anything they put their minds to.

Sky pivoted on his heel to Fi, met her eyes, and nodded.

“We’re ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behind the scenes of this chapter is me, keeping desperate track of who can see/hear/interact with whom. Ghosts paired with some characters having special, exclusive ghost vision is a recipe for confusion.


	12. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that there'll be some discussion of bodies, but nothing explicit.

The journey back to Kakariko took half the time of the journey to Castle Valley. Every day, they walked from dawn until dusk, pushing themselves faster than before. A mere day and a half later, they arrived at the hill with the mound of dirt and stone marking Sky’s grave.

Sky grit his teeth at the sight as the group pulled their shovels out. Link, who everyone had taken to calling Ghost, stood by his side. “It’ll be jarring,” he advised Sky. “You don’t realize how differently you experience the world as a ghost until you’re back in your body.”

“You seemed to take it pretty well,” Sky said, turning away from the excavation.

“Yeah, but I’d done it before. Not recently, but…” Ghost’s voice quieted. “Zelda and I spent a year hopping in and out of our bodies before Ganon took over for good.”

“Oh.”

Ghost smiled, but there was a tinge of regret to it. “It can be useful, in the right circumstances.”

Sky sat down, and they waited. Just as it had when the grave was dug, it took a long time. When they were done, Twilight lifted the wooden coffin, rickety and hastily put together, onto the grass.

As Zelda used a hammer to pry the nails out of the coffin, Time crouched next to her. She popped the last one off and paused. “A week dead isn’t going to be pretty. If you’re squeamish, you should look away.”

Sky looked away.

“Here we go,” Zelda said.

He heard the slide of wood over wood as Zelda removed the coffin’s lid. In his periphery, he saw her hands begin to glow. He made eye contact with Fi, who nodded at him.

The world exploded.

His eyes flew open. A blue sky tumbled and spun above him. His chest burned. He sucked in air, but it got caught in his throat on the way out, making him cough.

Large hands touched his shoulders and helped lever him up until he was sitting. Sky slumped into a chest covered by metal plating and pressed his fingertips against the armor. The metal was cold and smooth, and its presence sparked against his nerves.

“I—I can feel—” Sky said and promptly dissolved into a coughing fit.

Time tightened his grip on Sky’s shoulders. “Easy. Just breathe.”

Sky dug his fingers into a crack between the armor’s plates and pressed the side of his head against the breastplate. Every touch sparked like lightning against his skin, so real after so long.

The wind brushed against his face and blew a piece of hair into his mouth, and he coughed and shuddered.

Once Sky was breathing properly again, Zelda leaned forward and held a bottle of water up to his lips. He held the water in his mouth for a moment as it found its way under his tongue and between his teeth, and then he forcefully swallowed.

“Everything’s so—” Sky paused. There was no easy way to describe how his senses were in overdrive, processing the information they hadn’t gotten to in weeks. “It’s _so close._ ”

It was an imperfect description, but Zelda nodded. “I know what you mean. The best way is to push through it. Come on, time to stand up.”

Sky didn’t want to pull away from Time. He felt like if he didn’t cling on, the world would swallow him up, and he would never find his way out again. “I can’t,” he insisted. His legs locked up. One knee pressed against the sharp edge of his coffin.

Goddess, his _coffin._

“Sure you can.” Zelda’s hand reached out, and Sky flinched, almost elbowing her in the face.

“That’s enough,” Time said. “Take as much time as you need, Sky.”

Sky wasn’t sure the problem was time. The thought of more time like this, the world crashing over him in wave after wave, made his chest seize up. For a moment, he almost wished he had stayed a ghost.

“Um,” Hyrule’s voice said off to Sky’s other side. “Maybe I can help?”

“What is it, Traveler?” Time said.

“Sky, why don’t you lie down? And we can all be quiet and give you some time to adjust.”

“In his _coffin?_ ” Legend demanded. “That’s just too morbid.”

Hyrule sighed. “What do you want, Sky?”

Sky felt the wood, only dulled by his clothing, press into his knee and into his tailbone and into his side. He shivered against it. This was a bed he should only lie in when he was well and truly dead. “Take me out?” he said and hated the way it came out pleading.

Time slid an arm under Sky’s knees and lifted him. For a moment, he held him just as he had Sky’s body, in the temple in the woods the day Sky’s life was turned upside down.

It was over in a second. Sky suddenly lay in the grass. Hyrule told Time to stop touching him, and Time pulled away. For a moment, Sky’s heart swooped, waiting to fall into the void without an anchor to hold him there. But then his fingers trembled with relief at the empty, intangible air, at the lack of Time’s oppressive presence, and he relaxed. His hand came up to cover his eyes. He bit down on the groan that wanted to escape his lips.

“Is he okay?” Wind asked softly.

“Honestly, that’s the normal reaction. I reacted badly, too, the first time. Zelda was always the weird one,” Ghost said.

Zelda’s voice pitched high. “Hey!”

“Okay. Let’s just give him some space,” Hyrule said. “And be quiet about it.”

There was a moment of silence. Sky breathed into it, and for a moment, it was just him, and the grass, and the wind.

Wild cleared his throat. “We already ate lunch, but does anyone want a snack?”

The others moved off. Sky stayed where he was. Grass tickled his fingers and pushed against his back. He clenched his fingers over it until it stopped moving. He focused on breathing.

_Goddess Hylia, you are my shelter in the storm. Walk with me and grant me strength,_ he thought, and something in him settled.

He waited for many minutes, until the grass felt normal under his fingertips, until the wind stopped surprising him every time it deigned to touch him.

He pulled his hand away from his face and opened his eyes.

“You back?”

He turned his head to see Hyrule sitting in the grass with the Master Sword cradled in his lap. He made eye contact with Sky and smiled.

Sky sat up, his hands against the ground. He closed his eyes, breathed, and opened them. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Sky catalogued Hyrule’s smile. The expression had been too rare on his face the past few days. “Honestly, though, thank you. How did you know what would help?”

He kept his voice soft, and Hyrule did, too. “I’ve been alone all my life. Sometimes groups just… overwhelm me. I thought it might be similar.”

Skyloft was compact and eternally cramped. There was no getting away from people on the island. So unlike the Surface, which gave him an almost existential dread sometimes, how large it was, but he supposed for Hyrule, the emptiness was natural. Sky filed that fact away in his mind.

Hyrule held Fi out to him. “You should take her back.”

Sky curled his fingers around Fi’s hilt. He held her still, just to take her in, before he swung her over his shoulder and did up the straps. Her weight reassured him, even as it felt incongruous with the dirty clothes that stuck damply to his back. “Thank you for taking care of her for me.”

“It was the least I could do,” Hyrule said. He bit his lip and peered at Sky out of the corner of his eyes. “Are you ready to join the others? I think they’re anxious to see you.”

“Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Hyrule offered a hand to help Sky to his feet, and Sky took it. His fingertips ran over the rough weave of Hyrule’s tunic, sparking against his nerves.

They made their way down the hill. The others sat in a loose circle at its base, and as Hyrule and Sky approached, they turned. Fi and Wild had to pull their heads apart to look.

Sky stopped in front of them. They stared at him, and after a week of complete ignorance, the weight of their attention was heavy. “Hi,” he said. “Um. I’m back.”

Wind devolved into an entirely inappropriate fit of giggles. Giving him half a concerned look, Sky sat down with Warriors on one side and Hyrule on the other. Warriors slapped his back. “Welcome back.”

Wild made his way across the circle and held out a mushroom skewer. “Hungry?”

Sky took it. “Thank you.”

Wild nodded and gave a skewer to Hyrule. Then he slid away, back to his spot. All eyes remained on Sky, and he wondered if he should do something. Make some grand speech? Apologize for leaving them?

Zelda huffed. She pointed at Wind. “You’re the sailor, right? Sailors have good stories. You have anything up your sleeve?”

Wind’s face split into a grin. He opened his mouth but closed it abruptly, frowning and glancing at Sky.

Sky gave him a stern look. “What are you waiting for?”

Wind relaxed. “I have to think,” he said. “I want to tell Princess Zelda a good one.” As he mused on his options, Sky looked at Zelda. She threw him a wink.

Sky smiled and bit into a mushroom. Juice burst into his mouth, coating his tongue with an earthy flavor stronger than Sky expected. He held it in his mouth a moment and was relieved to discover that he still liked it. He would just have to eat a little slower than usual.

Wind decided on a story and launched into it, his hands flying about. Sky leaned back into the grass and listened.

* * *

By mid-afternoon, the group had passed through the walls of Kakariko. Fi disappeared into the Master Sword so as not to draw undue attention, and Sky kept grabbing at her hilt, reminding himself that she was awake.

When they walked into the inn, Sana looked up from the plate she was drying and cocked her head. “Made it back already, have—”

She dropped the plate.

Ghost stepped out from under Zelda’s arm and smiled in a way that looked almost like a grimace. He put his hands behind his back, where he could continue to worry them like he’d been doing for the past hour. “Wow. You really did get old.”

“Link?”

Sana rushed forward, stepping right through the shards of ceramic on the floor and grabbing at his shoulders. “Are you real?” She looked wildly at the rest of them.

“Of course I’m real,” Ghost said but didn’t seem to know what to add.

“But—if you’re alive—how are you still so young?”

“Spending fifteen years in Castle Valley with Ganon will do that to you.”

Sana’s arms sagged. “I don’t understand.”

“Stop being so roundabout, Link,” Zelda said. “Here, Sana, I’ll give it to you straight.”

As Sana turned wide eyes on Zelda, Sky backed off from them and found a chair to collapse into. He was hungry and tired, and his clothes were still slightly damp, but he was unsure of the etiquette of doing anything but waiting. Sana was distracted, after all, and rightly so.

He propped an arm up on the table and let himself rest his chest against it. The world swam before his eyes, and his eyelids drooped.

A hand tapped the side of his head. Sky jerked awake to see Twilight resting his weight against the table’s lip. “You might get better rest in an actual bed. And,” he added after a moment, delicately, “you might want a bath.”

Sky knew what was meant. He smelled. Twilight wasn’t wrong, but the thought of drawing an entire bath now, in this world without plumbing, made him grimace. “I’ll just sponge myself down,” he decided. “Actually, that reminds me. My bag’s still on Epona, right? I have spare clothes in there.”

Twilight rested a hand on Sky’s forearm for a second too long. “I’ll get it.”

“Thank you. For keeping my bag, I mean.”

“Well.” Twilight paused. “I’m just glad you’re here to use it.”

Sky didn’t know what to say to that. He ducked his head, and Twilight squeezed his arm before walking away.

Twenty minutes later, Sky, hair damp but fresh clothes dry, sat on a clean bed and pulled his sailcloth out of his bag. Even with the six beds arrayed through the room, he was the only occupant. Noise from the floor below still drifted up to him, but he was glad to get away. He pressed his face into the sailcloth and breathed. The fabric’s touch made his skin tingle, but already his sensitivity was waning. His body was adjusting to being alive again. When a portal finally opened up and deposited them in Skyloft, he would be alive to meet Zelda again.

He didn’t know if the goddess had any involvement in him still being alive, but her presence touched every corner of the world, so he took a moment to send thanks to her anyway.

With a sigh, he put the sailcloth away and slid his bag under the bed. He tucked his bare feet up under the covers and lay down. Sleep came easily, as it always had, taking his hand and guiding him into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go! There are still some loose ends to tie up, but we're almost there.


	13. The Master Sword

Sky woke to the creak of feet on hardwood. He opened his eyes to see Time standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and staring blankly in Sky’s general direction.

Sky made a noise he meant to be a greeting, but it just came out as sleep-addled nonsense. It served its purpose, anyway. Time’s gaze focused on him, and he came around to sit down on the closest bed. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows against his knees. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Sky propped himself up on his forearm and stifled a yawn. “It’s fine.” As he moved, his stomach shivered with hunger, and his bladder shifted uncomfortably. The mechanics of a real body, stumbling its way through life. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been asleep for a while.”

The dim light streaming through the window proved that well enough. It had probably been at least a few hours. Sky sat up fully and tried to blink himself awake. “Oh, yeah. I’m just really”—a yawn broke its way out of his mouth—“really tired.”

Time’s expression took on an amused slant. “I can tell. Dinner’s almost done. If you’re ready to eat, you can come down, but otherwise, we’ll save you a plate.”

He began to stand, but Sky caught his arm with a hand. “Hey. Thank you.”

“What for?” Time said.

Sky shrugged, uncertain himself. _For carrying my body out of the temple. For leading the group, even in the face of the grief. For being there when I woke up._ “For everything,” he said, but the words felt hollow, too vague to really mean anything.

Time sighed. He extricated his arm from Sky’s hold and ruffled his hair. “Get some rest,” he said and left the room.

Sky slumped backwards and threw an arm over his eyes, but he knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep. His grogginess began to fall away, a fleeting effect of being woken up so suddenly. After a few moments, he sat up and swung his legs out of bed, slipping his feet into his socks and boots. He walked to the door, intent on catching up to Time.

Fi’s voice stopped him cold in the doorway. “I understand if you do not wish to speak to me, Hero of Time,” she said, and it took a moment for Sky to realize who she was talking to.

“No, it’s all right,” Time said, voice low and even. Sky could imagine him leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. “What do you want to say?”

Sky’s heart picked up speed. Should he intervene? But no, Fi had cornered Time without Sky’s knowledge. She wanted to speak to him alone. Sky should back away and leave them in private.

He didn’t. His hands clung to the doorway. Lacking his leather gloves, the sharp wood bit into his palms.

“I know that I will not serve you well, and I would like to apologize for that since I will be unable to do so in the future.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I do not know if the Hero of the Sky has informed you, but Her Grace now calls me to sleep. Even if I resist, I will be unable to do so forever—”

“No.” Time was good at hiding his emotions, good at being mysterious, but now his voice ground audibly with some kind of tension. Sky couldn’t tell if it was frustration, anger, or something else. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, why do you think you haven’t served me well?”

“You make no secret of how you feel about me, and I know that you would not dislike me for no reason. Therefore, it is only logical to conclude that I must’ve failed.”

“You didn’t—” Time’s voice broke off. “That’s how I feel about the Master Sword, not you.”

“I am the spirit of the sword, Hero of Time. The very soul of it. We cannot be separated,” Fi said.

There was a suspended moment of silence until Time broke it with a sigh. “I’m going to be honest with you, Fi. I don’t know how to feel. I can’t lie and say that I can trust you. There’s too much… there. But, you did save Sky’s life, and that’s not nothing. So just… give it time, would you?”

“I understand,” Fi said. “Thank you for listening to me. Have a good evening.”

“Yeah. You, too.”

Sky didn’t move until Time’s footsteps faded away. He pulled back from the doorframe just as Fi appeared around the corner. “Hello, Link,” she said and floated into the room.

“I heard your conversation,” Sky said.

“Yes. I know.”

He bit his cheek. “How do you feel about it? I think that went… pretty well.”

“Yes, it did. I failed him, but the spirit of the hero is pure. Also, I believe it is helpful that I am in a humanoid form. Speaking to a sword does not stimulate the same levels of oxytocin in the brain as speaking to a humanoid.”

Sky wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but he just nodded. “The old man will come around. Like he said, he just needs some time.”

“I hope that is true.”

“Look, if _Groose_ can come around, we basically have the old man in the bag.”

Fi’s eyes softened. “I will take your word for it.” She paused. “Link. I must speak with you.”

“What about?” Sky said.

“I have thought about what you said, and your words…”

“Yes?”

“Your words are logical. I was afraid to defy Her Grace’s orders, because I thought that was where my failures originated, but I understand now that they have nothing to do with defying her orders. They are my own, entirely.”

Sky winced. “That’s not really what I—”

“It is terrifying and relieving,” Fi said. “I believe those are the names you would use for the emotions I am experiencing. Terrifying, because I must take independent responsibility for my actions, and relieving, because I am able to. My conversation with the Hero of Time proved that much.” She nodded, as if convincing herself while she spoke. “I want to stay awake, and I believe that I can do good while I am. So I will fight.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. When they did, Sky stumbled across the room and sat down, heavy, on the bed. “Link?” Fi asked. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Sky said. He ran a hand over his face, steadied himself, and looked up at Fi. “I’m so, _so_ happy you’re back.”

“As am I.” Fi floated close and held the end of an arm just over Sky’s shoulder. Now that he had a body, they couldn’t touch, so he didn’t shift closer. He just smiled. “I must preserve my energy,” she said. “I will rest now, but I will be back tomorrow. Good night, Link.”

“Thank you,” Sky said. “Good night.”

Five minutes later, he made his way to the first floor where Sana had just served dinner. Legend saw him first and cocked his head. “Why, look who’s decided to grace us with his presence.”

Sky rolled his eyes and slid into the nearest empty chair. Warriors, next to him, tugged at the hair that hung in front of his ear. “You’ve got a bit of a bedhead there, soldier.”

Sky pulled away, giving Warriors a look, but couldn’t stop himself from running his fingers through his hair to smooth it. Sana laid a plate of food in front of him, and he thanked her as she sat down.

“No problem, seriously,” she said. “You know, I was trying to think of a more delicate way to say this but couldn’t, so I’ll just say it. I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Just as with Twilight, Sky didn’t how to respond. He settled on an embarrassed, “Thanks.”

Sana’s gaze swept over the rest of the table. “And I know I’ve said this a thousand times already this afternoon, but you need to hear it a million. So—”

“No need to thank us again,” Time said. “Seeing you and Link reunited is reward enough.”

“Right. Well. You best enjoy it, seeing as how the princess is about to whisk him away.”

“You could come with us,” Ghost said. “I’m just saying.”

“Maybe I will,” Sana sniffed. “This old inn could use a new owner.”

“I don’t think anyone will buy it from you. They know they’ll spiral into debt immediately.”

Sana smacked Ghost’s shoulder. “Hush.”

* * *

The sun dipped below the horizon, and Sky stayed wide awake.

The experience was unusual. Typically, at the end of the day’s travels, he could drop off to sleep with an ease the others envied. He guessed his hours-long nap had done him no favors.

As the others drifted out of the room one by one, Sky found himself still at the table and nursing a water, eventually alone.

He wasn’t ready to go to bed. Instead, he got up and headed to the front door, pushing it open with a creak. The outside air would refresh him, he knew.

He paused with one foot out the door. Legend and Hyrule sat, arms brushing, on the porch. Hyrule kicked his legs at the ground as Legend looked up.

“Trying to eavesdrop on a private conversation, are you?”

Sky took a step back. “Sorry, I’ll—”

“No, it’s fine,” Legend said, his voice dropping the sarcastic lilt. Sky closed the door behind him and joined them sitting on the edge of the porch. A lit lamp hung from the porch’s roof, moths already swarming around it, just bright enough to light their faces in the night. Legend bumped Hyrule’s shoulder with his own. “I’ve just finished convincing this kid not to abandon us again.”

“Ha,” Hyrule said dryly. He cast a wary glance at Sky around Legend’s shoulder.

“Well, that’s good,” Sky said, and Hyrule looked down.

Legend rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Unlike the rest of you night owls, _I’m_ tired. Sky, don’t let him get lost.”

“I won’t,” Sky said and watched Legend as he turned with a lazy wave and disappeared into the inn. “Was he giving you a hard time?”

“No. I mean, a little, but not.” Hyrule stumbled over his words. “He apologized, actually.”

Sky nodded. “Good.”

“I apologized, too, because I was a jerk, and I know it. And I—” Hyrule looked up. “About when I was a fairy, and we argued. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you like that. And I shouldn’t have left in the first place, either.”

Hyrule looked at him with such earnestness that Sky couldn’t think of anything to say, at first. Finally, he settled on, “You shouldn’t have, but as long as you’re not planning on doing it again—”

“—of course not—”

“—then… we can move on. I’m not mad, and I don’t want to be mad, and maybe the others are… but you shouldn’t wallow in it.” Sky thought of some of his words to Fi and sighed. “I didn’t always make the greatest decisions, either.”

Hyrule nodded but didn’t respond, and the silence stretched on uncomfortably. Now that Sky could make conversation, it was all he wanted to do, so he cast about for something to say that would make things normal. “You know, you did well with the Master Sword. If you ever want to train with her some more, just ask.”

Hyrule shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m done with her. I’m much better with my own sword.”

After how insistent he’d been, seeing Hyrule give up so suddenly put a bad feeling in Sky’s stomach. “Are you sure? You seemed so set on learning.”

“Yeah, I—” Hyrule’s face twisted. “You know, I guess you must’ve heard what I said, when we buried you.”

After a beat, Sky said, “I wasn’t actually there for that part.”

“You weren’t?”

“You know when you yelled at the collector and stormed off? I sort of… followed you down the hill.”

Even in the low light, Sky could see Hyrule’s neck flush at his hairline. “Oh.”

“Well, anyway,” Sky stuttered. “When the captain fetched you and the collector, I just stayed down there. I didn’t want to see my own body go into the ground, you know?”

“I _don’t_ know, but.” Hyrule relaxed slightly. “But, yeah, that makes sense. I guess if you didn’t hear it—I said that I would give up my sword and commit myself to the Master Sword. That that was how I would honor you, because you had been going to teach me. Because how could I be a hero after I’d let you die? Because—” Hyrule’s fists clenched. “Because I thought it had to be my destiny.”

Sky frowned. “Traveler—”

“But I could never use it. You and the others like to talk about how well-balanced she is, how she’s just perfectly crafted, but I didn’t get it. She was too large, too unwieldy, and I—I _kept messing up,_ and then it turned out I was wrong all along! It was Ghost’s destiny to use her, not mine.”

“Maybe not this time,” Sky said. “But she is yours, just as much as she is mine. You could learn.”

Hyrule met Sky’s eyes. “That’s not the point. I wanted to use her because I thought I had to, but I didn’t want to actually use her. Does that make sense? There was no good reason to give up my sword for yours, except that I felt like I had this—this _failing,_ that I hadn’t used her. And it was the only way I could deserve to be here when all of you already deserve it.”

Sky’s breath caught. “Don’t say things like that about yourself.”

Hyrule leaned forward, and his fingers dug into the porch’s wood. “Why shouldn’t I say it if it’s true?”

“But it’s _not._ ”

“But it’s what I _thought,_ and I know it’s not true but I still think it sometimes, and maybe if you _actually listened_ to me instead of just dismissing what I say as dumb—” Hyrule pressed his fists against his thighs. “Maybe then you’d realize that it’s not that _simple_ for me.”

Sky opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His mind raced.

Hyrule shook his head and groaned. “I’m sorry.” He snuck a glance at Sky. “I really shouldn’t be berating someone who’s just come back from the dead.”

“It’s fine,” Sky said quickly. He thought he knew what Hyrule meant. He had never told the others about Demise and his curse. They would blame him, he just knew it, and they would be right. But if they didn’t… if they just acted like it was no big deal, when it speared Sky’s heart every time he thought about it? That would be better than their blame, sure, but it wouldn’t be _good._ He set his shoulders. “I’m sorry if I haven’t taken you seriously.”

Hyrule shrugged. “The point is that learning to use the Master Sword would just be putting a bandage on the wound.” He met Sky’s gaze. “I’ve decided I don’t want or need to wield her. And that’s _my_ choice, not anybody else’s.”

“All right,” Sky said slowly. “If you ever want to wield her, just let me know, but I respect that.”

Hyrule gave Sky a small smile. “Thank you.”

Sky smiled back, but his stomach still felt pulled into knots. He hesitated, just for a moment, but said, “Traveler, can I hug you?”

Hyrule blinked. Slowly, he nodded. “If you want.”

Sky slid closer. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Hyrule’s shoulders. Hyrule slumped into him and laced his fingers behind Sky’s back, pulling himself closer. Sky let his chin dip down into the bird’s nest that served as Hyrule’s hair.

His fingers dug into the rough weave of Hyrule’s tunic. He could feel Hyrule’s breath against his neck. So, so real, after a week of nothing.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for my death. I don’t,” he said. “But I get the sense that just telling you that isn’t going to make it go away.”

Hyrule buried his head in Sky’s tunic. “No,” he said, muffled.

“Well, just know that I’ve never blamed you, and I never will. It’s okay to feel however you feel, though.” Sky closed his eyes. He didn’t know how to do this, but he had to try. “If there’s anything I can do to help you, about this or anything else, I want to know. I’m here for you, and so is the collector, and so is everyone else.”

“Thanks.” Hyrule pulled back, but he kept his arms on Sky’s. “Being alive is a good start.”

Sky laughed, but it got caught in his chest halfway through and broke into something pained. “I’ll try my best.”

Hyrule watched him for a long moment. “And Sky? The same goes for you. I don’t—it must’ve been—I can’t _imagine—_ ” His hands tightened on Sky’s arms. “Just. If you need anything. I’m here.”

Sky nodded. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

They sat, silent, for just a moment, and then the air shifted. Sky looked up to see black and purple blooming out of thin air in the street. A portal.

He and Hyrule looked at each other and stood as one.

They dashed inside and hit the stairs at a run. Hyrule took the first bedroom’s door, and Sky ducked into the next one. “A portal. In the street,” he said, stepping between the beds to get to his stuff.

As Wind cursed, Twilight rolled out of bed and staggered to his feet, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “Epona,” he said in half an explanation as he stumbled out the door.

Sky picked Fi up and strapped her to his back. He secured his sailcloth around his shoulders and watched Wind roll over and pull the blanket over his head. “I know it sucks,” Sky said, “but we really need to get going.”

As Sky grabbed his bag, Warriors dragged Wind out of bed. “Hey! No!” Wind protested.

“You going to make me carry you?” Warriors said.

“Fuck you,” Wind said, and Warriors set him down on his feet.

Four and Sky shared an exasperated look.

Once everyone was out the door, Sky followed them down the stairs and outside. Sana, Zelda, and Ghost stood off to the side with bleary looks on their faces, staring up at the portal. “Huh,” Sana said with no small amount of feeling.

Time walked up next to her and counted out rupees. “No one go until everyone is here,” he said.

When he tried to hand the rupees to Sana, she pushed them back into his hands. “Are you crazy? It’s on the house.”

“Time to finally get out of this insane world,” Legend muttered, arms crossed.

Twilight arrived with Epona in hand, leading her past Sana, Ghost, and Zelda. “Sorry about the commotion,” he said as Wild tempted her towards the portal with a carrot.

“Will we ever see you again?” Ghost asked.

“Probably not,” Time said. “But who knows?”

Zelda raised a lazy hand, as if she could not be less fazed by the proceedings. “Best of luck.”

As one hero after another stepped into the portal, Sky found Hyrule and slid in next to him. Hyrule looked up and tilted his head. “Ready?”

Sky smiled. “Ready.”

Together, they stepped into another world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're done! And so close to 40k, too. The draft I was working with when I began posting was just over 40k, so I guess line editing slightly improved concision? We'll call it a win.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's come on this journey with me! It's been fun. Have a wonderful holiday season, and stay safe. <3


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